I Didn't Write What I Know

We had been waiting on the launch pad for about three hours when the phone rang. It was Mission Control. "The guys at IT think there might be a problem with the navigation coordinates, so you might as well eat your hamburgers now." The burgers were a little cold and the bun was soggy, but no one complained. "I'll make it up to you guys when we get into orbit," I said, as I opened the pickle jar. My crew and I had been through a lot together, starting with our sorties over the DMZ. You don’t get hamburgers—soggy or otherwise—when you’re out fighting Migs over the Pyongang desert.

In addition to my usual crew was a new guy named Olaf. He was a Dane who stood about six feet eight and went about 300 pounds. Olaf was as strong as the rest of us put together, and he was going to need every ounce of that strength for his part of the mission. We were taking our rocket ride to fix a satellite that had gone out of orbit, and he was going to have to haul it into the capsule so we could adjust the transponders. Of course they weren’t going to tell us what the satellite was for, but we all knew it wasn’t so you could get ESPN Deportes in Tuscaloosa. We also knew that Olaf was going to be doing some serious heavy lifting out there.

It took a while for Olaf to fit in, which is only natural. Me and the guys had been together in the trenches—literally—and you can’t help but bond when your tin rations run out, you’re waist-deep in God knows what kind of filth, and Jerry is pointing his .22 at you fifteen away across No Man’s Land. Jerry, our Jerry I mean, Jerry Rodriguez from San Antonio, that is, even took Olaf for a spy. “I no trust his accent,” he said to me at the NASA bar with the honesty that comes from one cerveza too many. But I think he just wanted to prove to the guys that he was as American as the rest of us, even though his father and father’s father was on the wrong side of the Alamo. Funny thing is Olaf thought Jerry was a spy, too, which he confessed to me over some Danish rum his mum had mailed him. Everything worked out okay, though. Jerry and Olaf got to be best of friends because they both loved Tom Clancy novels and suffered from mild schizophrenia that they covered up during their psych evaluation by pretending to be each other.

“Damn, captain, are they going to light this candle or not?” Chuck grumbled from the backseat. He was always in a hurry to get wherever he was going, which was funny because he was a doctor before he got drafted. “For a doctor, you sure don’t have any patience!” Harold joked for the millionth time, and we laughed not at the joke itself but the absurdity of its repetition. Plus, Harold and Chuck were lovers, which added a depth to the joke that only a military man can appreciate.

I called up the tower and said, “You’ve got five guys up here who are ready to get on with this mission. I don’t care if I have to steer this thing with a rudder, let’s launch.” Sometimes you had to kick those eggheads in the ass to get them to do anything. “No can do,” shot back Carol, exhaling her cigarette as she spoke like Marlene Dietrich. Now, if she was an egghead, she was a Faberge. (I was big into collecting those at the time.) Some of the guys didn’t like Carol because she was so pretty and was sleeping with Rodriguez. But she was top-notch in the control tower, and that’s all I cared about. Besides this was NASA, where everybody slept with everybody. We used to joke that the initials stood for National Aeronautics and a whole lot of interagency Sex Agency. That’s before the Moral Majority got interested in the space program.

“Roger that, Carol,” I said, knowing that if we weren’t lifting off now, we probably were going to be spending the night aboard the capsule because it was going to be dark in about 20 minutes. But just as I was ready to give up hope, the status light turned from red to green. I looked at Jerry, who knew all about the navigation systems, but he just shrugged. “What happened down there? We’ve got a ‘Go’ sign here,” I said to Carol. “Yeah, we’re not sure what happened,” she responded. “But the problem seems to have corrected itself. We’re going to start the countdown in a T-minus 30 seconds.” I looked around at my crew, who were busy putting away the condiments with the kind of no-nonsense professionalism that comes only with years of experience, and thought to myself with pride, “Yeah, the New Kids on the Block hit the nail right on the head.”

And the countdown began: 100, 99, 98, 97…

A Response to Mark Athitakis: Part One

Mark Athitakis, who has a well-respected literary blog, wrote a fascinating post about the Advanced Genius Theory. He wrote some very kind words about the book, especially with regard to my sense of humor. I intend to trot out some of his quotes the next time my wife rolls her eyes at one of my jokes. Anyway, Athitakis has had a long history with the theory, going from annoyed to curious to downright respectful. But I haven't won him over yet; he still has issues with the theory and lays them out very tidily on his blog. I thought I would spend a little time answering some of his criticisms, not to prove him wrong, but merely to engage in the type of conversation the book was supposed to inspire. Today, I'm writing to address his observation that my critiques of single works of art (rather than a body of work) is unsatisfying:

The problem with Advancement—and the reason why it’s easy to regard it as a parlor game, if not an outright prank—is that its scope is limited. The theory only applies to artists who have a proven history of unquestioned brilliance (15 years, Hartley suggests), so the theory tends to get caught up in details about whether a musician’s acquisition of sunglasses and “world beat” musicians signifies Advancement or not. (Yanni would be the ultimate Advanced musician, I suspect, were he ever any good.) Another limitation is that Advancement mainly considers careers, not individual works—or at least doesn’t consider individual works in any interesting way. (They’re always better than you think! Because an Advanced artist made them!) Hartley is never more flat-footed as a writer then when he writes about a particular album; when he considers Dylan’s album Shot of Love, he lapses into the kind of fanboy fawning fit for a message board. (“The second song, ‘Heart of Mine,’ is a lovely, piano-heavy tune that shows off Dylan’s ability to sing in a conventional style when called upon to do so….”)

To this I say, well, a few things. First, there was a lot of ground to cover in the book, so I made the decision not to get too deep into particular works. I could write a book about Shot of Love, but I chose instead to address just the idea that he "can't sing" because that is a major hurdle for many listeners. It might be better to say that my  purpose was not so much to explain why you should enjoy certain Advanced music but, rather, to convince you that it is possible to enjoy it. As for fanboy fawning, if truly feeling that "Heart of Mine" is lovely constitutes fanboy fawning (or just bad music criticism), then I'm guilty. But I wanted to write like a fan rather than a critic because I hoped that my sincere enthusiasm would inspire people to give Dylan and other Advanced artists another shot. 

It seems that Athitakis's primary complaint with the book/theory is that I'm not fulfilling the role of critic adequately. He mentions in his post that I am averse to criticism and I'm suggesting that others should be as well. I'm not saying that, or not exactly that. I'm just trying to put criticism into some sort of context. What does it mean if Kurt Loder doesn't like a Bob Dylan song, but I do? Am I wrong? Is he? Is it possible that we're both right (or wrong)? In the process of trying to answer this, it seems valid to me to look at Dylan's body of work and, especially, the contemporary reaction (critical and popular) to his separate works. My position is that Dylan is right more often than he is wrong, so I give him the benefit of the doubt. I would like to say that it is possible to judge a work by itself, but I don't think it is.

I have more to say about all this, but I wanted to get some thoughts down while they are fresh. 

Who Really Typed Shakespeare: Bingo or Pancakes?

On April 23, 1915, Dr. Ravel Giancarlo set out to prove that if you gave enough monkeys enough time and enough typewriters, one of them would eventually reproduce the complete works of William Shakespeare. He got the idea from a book by Émile Borel, who used metaphorical monkeys to illustrate the stability of the laws of statistical mechanics. Inspired by this "infinite monkey theorem," Giancarlo rounded up fifty actual monkeys, chained them to fifty typewriters, and locked the doors. In the fall of 1948 Bingo, the first monkey that was recruited for the project, pulled from the carriage of his typewriter the final scene from The Tempest, vindicating Dr. Giancarlo, who had been ostracized from the scientific community. Giancarlo had always maintained that one of his monkeys would prove the theorem, so it was not a surprise to him that the experiment met with success. However, he was astonished that success came so quickly—and by a monkey with such humble beginnings.

Bingo's unlikely story began in the 1890s at Glover's Animal Preserve in Warwickshire, where he received the standard monkey education of the day. Most of his time would have been spent memorizing portions of Lily's Cercopithecus Latina as well as attending church. After Warwickshire, there is a gap in the timeline of nearly ten years, commonly known as the "lost years." Some scholars believe that Bingo might have been the same monkey—alternately referred to as "Bongo" and "Banjo"—who was rumored to live in the household of the wealthy Huffman family near Lancashire around the turn of the twentieth century. Details about Bongo or Banjo are murky because at the time monkey ownership was frowned on by the Anglican Church, so the Huffmans would have had to keep their monkey as secret as possible. Though we'll probably never know for sure if the Huffman monkey was indeed Bingo, it is nearly certain that near the end of these lost years he attached himself with a small circus, probably Lord Strange's Monkeys, which would have taken him to London.

It was shortly after he arrived in the city that Bingo was sold to Dr. Giancarlo. For the next thirty-three years Bingo typed away, starting with the sonnets, moving into the comedies and histories, and, finally, the tragedies, just as Shakespeare had done. His pace was remarkable from the beginning: While other monkeys were struggling with the stage directions of Titus Andronicus, Bingo was putting the finishing touches on Hamlet's famous "To be, or not to be" speech. After Bingo was finished with Shakespeare, he rejected Dr. Giancarlo's offer to give Faulkner or Joyce a try, and decided to put away his typewriter for good. He retired to Warwickshire, where he died a few years later as the most celebrated monkey typist of all time. But his legacy would not be left to rest in peace.

In the 1960s, some scholars asserted that Bingo (the "upstart monkey" in the words of one of his contemporaries) hadn't actually typed the plays and that a much more likely candidate was Marshmallows, who was also a part of Dr. Giancarlo's project. They believed that Bingo, having merely attended the King's New Monkey School back at Warwickshire, would not have had the education to randomly type Shakespeare. Marshmallows, on the other hand, was a celebrated monkey typist who had been to university at Cambridge as part of a number of lab experiments, so it was argued that he would have been exposed to a wide range of science, history, and literature. However, the Marshmallows theory was disproved definitively in 1968, when it was discovered that he had been killed in a brawl over a bunch of bananas before the typing of Romeo and Juliet. The Marshmallows theory was replaced soon thereafter by a group who posited that it must have been Sir Francis Bacon who typed the plays. This theory, too, was shot down easily, as it was revealed that the "monkey" Sir Francis Bacon was not even a part of Dr. Giancarlo's experiment, having died a few hundred years before it began. It was also discovered that Bacon was in fact a human being famous for works such as Essays, Colours of Good and Evil, and the Meditationes Sacrae. Amazingly, there are still some Baconists who cling to the idea that their man was the monkey that typed Shakespeare.

Since then there have been several theories proposing alternatives to Bingo. Indeed, for the last thirty years a veritable cottage industry in the publishing world has grown out of the question, "Which monkey really typed Shakespeare?" The latest offering is from Rubin James and Brenda Williams, who have written a new book, The Real Monkey Shakespeare: Bingo Was Not His Name-O. In it, they claim that it was not Bingo but Pancakes, another monkey in the Dr. Giancarlo's experiment, who typed Shakespeare. They point to the fact that Pancakes was well educated, had traveled to all the countries used as settings in the plays, and had a life that matched up with the action and settings of the plays. Williams has suggested that the aristocratic Pancakes, who was a distant relation of Bingo, would not have wanted the publicity that was sure to follow any monkey who typed Shakespeare and might have wanted to give his "his poorer cousin a paw up" by attributing the typing to him.

James said that he began exploring the connection between Bingo and Pancakes about eight years ago. "It was really an accident," James explains. "I was reading Bingo's dedication for the sonnets, trying to figure out who this mysterious 'Mr. P K' was, when I noticed something strange, something that didn't quite make sense." That something, says James, was a secret code that, when deciphered, read "thy monkey," followed by "Pancakes." After cracking this code, he then checked the names of the monkeys used by Dr. Giancarlo's. He verified that one of the monkeys was indeed named Pancakes, who had been the monkey to the ambassador of France. This time with the ambassador would have given Pancakes the insight into the inner workings of courtly life that Williams and James feel any Shakespeare monkey typist would need. Plus, Williams discovered that Pancakes had been imprisoned in the Paris zoo for siding with Émile Zola in the Dreyfus Affair, which would explain his uncanny ability to type the tragedies, particularly Hamlet. "It's fantasy to believe a monkey like Bingo could have typed such sophisticated plays," says Williams. "Pure fantasy."
Most Bingo scholars disagree. "It's just snobbery," claims Dr. Peter Zeus, recent recipient of the Davy Jones Professorship in Monkey-Typing Studies at Warwick University. "There is plenty of evidence that Bingo received a quite good classical education at Warwickshire, not to mention he was a part of the vibrant London circus society that placed a high value on random-typing skills." Dr. Zeus points to the fact that Bingo would have associated with monkeys from all over the world and therefore would have been familiar with all the cultures that Shakespeare wrote about. "There's just no real evidence that points to any monkey but Bingo." But Dr. Zeus says that people will go on believing that it was simply impossible for a monkey with such a "common" background to have typed Shakespeare's plays. "It's a shame," he says ruefully, "because this was one special monkey. That anyone would deny that Bingo typed Shakespeare just drives me bananas."

Review of Page 86 of A Visit From the Goon Squad

Writers spend years of their lives working on a book, then someone writes a 500-word review of it, 65% of which is a recap of plot points. So I thought I’d write a review of a single, somewhat random page of Jennifer Egan’s fairly amazing but regularly flawed A Visit From the Goon Squad. Before getting started, though, I should confess that I don’t think I’m up to the task of reviewing this or any other book—I don’t like metaphors, I don’t get symbols, I miss symbols, irony goes right past me, it takes a lot of time to review a whole book—which is probably the main reason I’m writing about one page, rather than out of respect for Egan’s work. But anyway, here goes…

We start with a cliché, the perfect country club woman whose “prodigious childbearing had left no mark on her narrow waist and well-tanned biceps.” (You don’t often hear of the effects of childbearing on biceps.) This woman represents Crandale, the white-bread destination for other clichés, especially hedge-fund managers, though the hedge-fund manager doesn’t appear until the bottom of the page. Tennis is used to establish the uncomfortable surroundings for Stephanie, who “came from nowhere,” but unlike her husband, Bennie, she is from a Midwestern suburban nowhere. (Bennie is from an urban nowhere.) But Egan makes an interesting choice to make Stephanie have a history with tennis—she “achieved a certain greatness at around age thirteen—though she falls back onto cliché, comparing the “greasy burgers” of Stephanie’s youth with Crandale’s salade nicoise (italics hers).

Later, Stephanie and Bennie have gin and tonics, while watching fireflies and listening to a pianist playing “harmless melodies on a shining upright.” Like the childbearing biceps bit, I find the word harmless a strange choice; is it a value judgment? Should a pianist play harmful melodies while people have cocktails? Is there even such a thing as a harmful melody?

We find out that the couple has moved here to mark Bennie’s success in the music business, and its value is put in terms of its distance (physical and mental) from his life growing up in his urban nowhere and his “dark eyed” grandmother. (Another meaningful description where I can’t find enough meaning to satisfy myself that I’ve gotten it.) We are meant to realize that this is just another nowhere, but the women have “shining ponytails,” not dark eyes.

At the end of the page, we find out that the hedge-fund manager is a bit more than just a type, in that he appreciates the band that made Bennie’s reputation. This is a nice touch because it makes Bennie fit in, but in a way that would make him extremely uncomfortable. Bennie, after all, had been the bassist for the punk band the Flaming Dildos (a fake band name that sounds fake, though I’ve not seen many fake bands with names that don’t sound fake), and while hedge funds and dildos are often associated with other, the punk in Bennie would never want to be approved of by a hedge-fund manager named Duck.

And so the page ends with Duck asking whatever happened to Bosco, the guitarist for the band Bennie discovered. Bosco is recording an album, Bennie tells Duck, but leaves out important details. That happens on the top of the next page, so that’s off limits.


As for the book as a whole, I liked it quite a bit. I did feel like there were a lot of characters I’ve seen before in Dead Milkmen videos, but in some cases I guess that was the point. It’s very possible that something is going on with these characters that is more interesting than I realize. But I just couldn’t help thinking that Egan could do better than the runaway with uncaring parents, the suicide, self-destructive musicians, record producers named Lou with underage girlfriends, and country club types who befriend people from nowhere only if they make a good tennis partner (and have dark-eyed husbands they can sleep with).

I am in the minority in some of my criticisms, but I think some are valid. My biggest problem was that a lot of importance was attached to things like “greasy burgers,” which are mildly evocative, but only of something so familiar that it has no meaning. Where’s the beef, you might say.

Again, the book is really quite good, and I recommend it to anyone. It’s complex and moving, plus Egan creates a touching Powerpoint presentation, which is something you rarely see. Her method of storytelling is so compelling that I think the characters in the story might suffer from the comparison. If the characters had been as unpredictable as each new chapter’s style is, A Visit From the Goon Squad would have been one of the best books I’ve ever read.

Woody Allen in the Digital Age: Still Miserable

You can now get audiobooks of Woody Allen's short stories, read by Allen himself. He seems to have enjoyed the project immensely (NY Times):

Q.What was the recording experience like for you? Did you make any new discoveries about these pieces in rereading them? Did it take you back to the frame of mind you were in when you first wrote them?

A.I imagined it would be quite easy for me and in fact, it turned out to be monstrously hard. I hated every second of it, regretted that I had agreed to it, and after reading one or two stories each day, found myself exhausted. The discovery I made was that any number of stories are really meant to work, and only work, in the mind’s ear and hearing them out loud diminishes their effectiveness. Some of course hold up amusingly but it’s no fun hearing a story that’s really meant to be read, which brings me to your next question and that is that there is no substitute for reading and there never will be. Hearing something aloud is its own experience but it’s hard to beat sitting in bed or in a comfortable chair turning the pages of a book, putting it down, and eagerly awaiting the chance to get back to it.

 I'd like to imagine the process being more like this.

Excerpt From Advanced Genius Theory: Mick Jagger

Mick Jagger is clearly Advanced, and were it not for his guiding hand, it’s easy to imagine the Rolling Stones being just another band that was good for a while, like the Animals or Ebn Ozn.

The case for his being a genius is airtight, so there’s no need to go over that. I think he began his move toward Advancement when the Stones started playing disco music. To clarify, I don’t really hear the disco in their disco songs, plus the songs were huge hits and very good, but still rock purists were pretty unhappy with the development. He embraced internationalism in the form of Bianca Jagger, he was in Freejack, he went solo, reunited with his band, sang with Bette Midler, appeared in a sitcom, sold out a million times over (starting in the sixties with a Rice Krispies commercial), and played the Super Bowl. And then there’s the matter of his look, which may be the most Advanced thing about him.

At various points he had the correct hair length, leather color, and sunglasses tint, but he developed a style of dress that no non-Advanced person could have ever dreamed up. I’m talking about the tights with knee pads, the jerseys, the striped leotards, and the puffy jackets that he has worn on stage the last 30 years or so. What is so baffling is that he was such a stylish dresser at the start of his career; no one has ever rocked sweaters and oxford shirts like he did (Eddie Haskell came close). But once the dress code was relaxed for rock musicians in the late 1960s, his Advancement blossomed. He lost the bad boy in nice clothes look, choosing instead a wardrobe that was a mixture of Gandalf and Philadelphia Eagles cheerleader. Even more amazing is that he dresses normal, even well, offstage. So what’s going on?

One thing about Advanced front men is that they cannot be embarrassed. They will sing in falsetto, sing with a pronounced southern accent even though they are from England, dance like a chicken, and do Inkspots-inspired voiceovers about fine Arab chargers. It is this fearlessness, though, that makes them able to give full voice to their genius. In the case of Jagger’s clothes and general onstage persona, it does seem ridiculous, but he is an incredibly effective performer. He comes from an era where entertainers took their jobs seriously, which included wearing clothes that separated them from the audience. Jagger certainly meets this objective. As I said before, he is the reason the Stones are still around, and a big part of that is because he is still so interesting to watch. Make fun of his clothes, his pointing, and his lip contortions all you want, but the guy gets the crowd worked up, even those who are sitting in the top row of a football stadium a half-mile from the stage. (I think he got into the garish costumes when they were playing in stadiums before the advent of Jumbotrons. It was just a way to be seen.)

Many Overt people feel like he shouldn’t be on the stage anymore, regardless of his clothes. They say that Jagger and the Stones tour only for the money and their recent records are just irrelevant throwaways. This is ridiculous, as they certainly have more money than they could possibly need, and it would keep pouring in whether they were touring or not. They tour because they love playing live, and all the musicians they worshipped played until they couldn’t play any more. If they didn’t like it, they wouldn’t do it. As for the records, it is extremely difficult and time consuming to make a record, and they really don’t make that much money for an artist. Sure the records since Steel Wheels are hard to get into right away because they don’t sound like the old Stones, just as it is difficult to enjoy any new music put out by a musician whose “prime” has passed. But if you haven’t listened to Voodoo Lounge as many times and with as much care (or drugs) as you did Exile on Main Street, how do you really know it’s not as good? You may dismiss this idea, but you probably also dismissed Voodoo Lounge before you even heard it. There aren’t that many musicians as Advanced as Mick Jagger, so you could only benefit from giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you’ve been hoping that there would be another great Stones record some day, so wouldn’t it be great if it’s already on your iPod?

So My Amazon.com Review Wasn't Helpful, Huh?

I'm going to get the guy who didn't find my Amazon.com review of "Steve Miller Band: Greatest Hits 1974–1978" helpful. I mean, I'm really going to get him. Eighteen people read my review, and seventeen found it helpful. Now you tell me if I've got a problem or that guy does. It's him, right? Well, now he's got another problem: I'm coming after him.

This guy is seriously dense if it doesn't help him to know that "Swingtown" builds a foundation of rhythm piece-by-piece, then adds contrapuntal layers of melody, and finally bursts into an understated chorus that is surprisingly effective. What does this guy want, anyway? He's probably just bummed that "Abracadabra" isn't included on the album. I admit that "Abracadabra" is a great song that had Miller furthering his visionary exploration of synthesizers that began with songs like "Fly Like an Eagle" and "Rockin' Me." But it came out after 1978! If you want "Abracadabra, get "Young Hearts: Greatest Hits" you moron.

By the way, jerk, "The Joker" is not about cards or Batman. It's an exploration of the divide between appearance and reality. It also deals with the decline of traditional ideas of masculinity in an increasingly yonic society. I mean doesn't he hear the guitar making that whistling noise? And can't he understand that "Take the Money and Run" is about the importance of personal responsibility in an era dominated by moral relativism? I tell you who did understand it: seventeen other people. So take that, jackass.

Hey, I don't even like Steve Miler that much. I'm much more of a Bob Seger guy. But I like to help people who don't know as much about music as I do. I guess some people just can't be helped. Anyway, when I find "justamusicfan," he's going to regret he ever read that "Wild Mountain Honey," while considered an afterthought by many, shows that Miller is in the same class of singer-songwriters that includes James Taylor and Jackson Browne.

Yeah, he's really going to regret that he ever read that.

Sting at Chastain Park - Concert Review

As you may know, I have had a difficult time judging whether Sting is Advanced. I wrote about it in my book and included one of his songs in a song list I did for the New York Times. But I had never seen him live before, which I thought might be the reason why I felt it so difficult to judge him. So I was excited to find out he was bringing his "Symponicity" tour to Atlanta's Chastain Park. As you will see this concert experience did little to clear up the matter of Sting's Advancement.

I had arranged to borrow my brother's car to get to the show because my wife was out of town with ours. I printed out my ticket at work, put it in my bag, and raced to my brother's house, catching both trains just in time. A perfect start. I got the keys to the car from my sister-in-law, then went out to the back of the house, where the car was parked. His car doesn't have a trunk, so I was worried about leaving my bag in it during the concert, so I cleverly hid it behind a post in the back yard, under the deck, then headed off to the show.

I got there about 35 minutes early, so I was feeling good. As I pulled into one of the last free parking spots, I realized that my clever idea with the bag was actually stupid, because that is where my ticket was. It was going to take me at least 45 minutes to get to the house and back, but I figured he wouldn't start exactly on time. I realized on my way that the car was low on gas, so low that I would have to stop. Five more minutes down. I put $10 in, got to the house, grabbed my ticket, and headed back to Chastain Park.

When I got there again, almost all the parking was taken up, so I drove around and around, killing another 10 minutes. As I drove by, I heard a snippet of "Englishman in New York," which sounded fantastic. As an aside: why do DJs always cut off the end of that song before the "it's a big enough umbrella" line? Anyway, I found a ($15) parking space and ran up a huge hill in the sweltering Georgia heat.

When I arrived at the gate, he was just finishing a beautiful version of "Roxanne." I gave the woman my ticket and asked how long he had been playing. She started to say "not long," but then stopped, looked at my ticket, and revealed to me that it was for the next night's show. I didn't know there were two shows, so I didn't even bother to check. People at the gate all got a good laugh.

The next morning, I woke up feeling a little funny, and by the time I started to go to  work, I realized that I was too sick to drive. There would be no Sting concert for me, and my frustrating relationship would continue.

My rating of the 38 seconds I heard: 4 stars

Liz Phair Wants to Be Advanced

According to her post "how to like it" on her site:

You were never supposed to hear these songs. These songs lost me my management, my record deal and a lot of nights of sleep.

Yes, I rapped one of them. Im as surprised as you are. But here is the thing you need to know about these songs and the ones coming next: These are all me. Love them, or hate them, but dont mistake them for anything other than an entirely personal, un-tethered-from-the-machine, free for all view of the world, refracted through my own crazy lens.

This is my journey. Ill keep sending you postcards. 

 She had me for a moment but then it occurred to me that it's a little bit too close to an apology or at least an attempt to distance herself from any criticism one might have. The Advanced don't say, "Hey, this is Advanced, so that's why it sounds strange." I also find her reference to her "own crazy lens" to be on the Overt side, as everyone Overt wants people to think they're weird. Still, I do like that she raps.

Sting Is Pretentious (And We're Both Okay With It)

A couple of bits from the NYT:

The apartment’s host can sometimes seem like the ultimate version of that co-worker or college-reunion acquaintance who is always one-upping your anecdotes: ask Sting about the 19th-century aluminum double bass he keeps near his bookshelves and he will say he uses it to play “one little piece of Purcell every day and that’s it”; mention the two chess sets he keeps on his coffee table and he’ll tell you about the matches he played against the grandmaster Garry Kasparov. (“Of course he beat me every time. But you know, he can’t sing.”)

And if that same eclecticism has led Sting far from his origins as a rebellious rocker, he knows how it makes him look to some listeners.

“Of course I do,” he said. “I come off as being pretentious and all that stuff. Don’t care.”

Sting, 58, said the appreciation for classical music he cultivated from the piano playing of his hairdresser mother and BBC radio of the 1950s was not something he could readily confess to back in his Police days.

“It was frowned upon,” he said, “and that’s the whole ridiculous premise of rock ’n’ roll becoming this Taliban-esque, closed thing. ‘You can’t do that, you can’t do that.’ What’s the spirit of rock ’n’ roll except freedom — freedom to do whatever you want?”

And...

This being Sting, conversation with him naturally turned to subjects like the BP oil spill, the possibility of sustainable fuel sources and Eastern mysticism — in this case via the decorative Tibetan dZi stone he wears around his neck. (“They say they are planted by Bodhisattvas,” he said. “I have no way of verifying the truth of that, but it’s a beautiful thing.”)

It also returned to the meaning of the word pretentious, which Sting pointed out comes from the same root as the word pretend. Though he embraces the label, Sting said: “I’m not pretending anything. I’m curious, I’m finding out. I’m enthusiastic about stuff.”

He added, “What am I supposed to do, stay in my box?,” cheerfully punctuating the remark with a vulgar phrase more closely associated with his punk-rock days.

Rock on, Sting.

Jacobpedia Is Funny

This person is not a fan of my book, writing:

Hartley states that most people think his theory is a joke, although he insists it isn’t. I can’t believe he is earnest. I have been a Dylan fan for as long as I can remember, and Reed’s work with the Velvet Underground is enough to put him in the pantheon of rock musicians. But, no matter what mental gymnastics you want to go through to prove otherwise, Dylan and Reed actually lost it. (Dylan, though, climbed out of his ’80s trough, beginning with 1989′s Oh Mercy.) Whether the issue was apathy, drug and alcohol abuse, or simply using up all their good ideas, many of the artists who made their names in the 1960s and early ’70s lost their way in the ’80s. And although Hartley equates the “advancement” of the ’80s with Dylan going electric in 1965, no artist of that generation released anything in the ’80s that matched his/her/their earlier output. Plus, Hartley instantly loses his argument by including Brian Wilson’s “Smart Girls” on his list of examples of Advancement in practice. By insisting that “Smart Girls” is anything but a crime against the hearing public, Hartley reveals that he is an irrational person.

That's fine. But now he's going after Lou Reed and his photography:

[Reed's] “horseshit-generating powers” have been pretty spectacular throughout his career, but since the early-’70s, he hasn’t done much of anything that warrants paying attention to his pompous pronouncements. And, being the driving force behind the Velvet Underground doesn’t earn you forty years of good will. At this point, I’m mostly just amused by how awesome he thinks he is and how seriously he takes himself.

I'm going to pretend to be rational for a moment: if my defense of "Smart Girls" shows that my theory is without merit, what are we to make of someone who makes a statement like, "since the early-’70s, he hasn’t done much of anything that warrants paying attention to his pompous pronouncements"? Not much since the early 1970s? Talk about pompous pronouncements! I guess all of us who like The Bells and New York and Magic and Loss and so on are just idiots. But not as big of an idiot of Lou Reed, of course, who has the audacity to show his photography in an exhibition and call one of his photos "Gorgon." Lucky for Reed the blogger does admit that the Velvet Underground was great. What a relief!

A Note to My Next Mugger

Before you begin mugging me, I'd like to give you a few pointers:

If you're feeling nervous at all, don't worry: I have lots of experience, so I can walk you through the process. The main thing to remember is that I'm more afraid of you than you are of me. If that doesn't help, just imagine me in my underwear. Better yet, make me take my pants off and you can see me in my underwear. If you don't have a gun, tell me that you do, and I am certain to believe you. If you do have a gun, you can shoot me with it, but that should be a last resort.

If you are a woman, as three of my muggers have been, I apologize in advance for telling people that you were a man.

It would be great if you didn't yell too much because that makes me panic a little, which will make you yell more. It's sort of an unpleasant cycle that usually ends with my getting shot or stabbed, and I'd like to think that we both want to avoid that. Also, if you could make an effort not to rush me, I think everything will go much more smoothly. Ironically, it seems like the less I'm rushed, the quicker the mugging is. I could be wrong, but it has always seemed that way to me.

If you plan to attack me, I would appreciate your not attacking me from behind. I might instinctively try to resist if I don't see you coming, and then you might instinctively shoot or stab me. I would prefer, of course, that you not attack me at all. A menacing look is all that is required.

I keep my wallet in my right back pocket. Don't worry, there's no chain or anything. I keep an emergency twenty in my sock, but I would prefer your not taking in it. In exchange, I won't report my credit cards stolen for 24 hours. This way, I get to take a cab home, and you can get a few things with my credit card.

I do not wear any jewelry, but after the mugging, since you'll have my credit cards, you can buy some if you'd like. I know a good jeweler. He's a friend of the family, so if you say you know me, he'll give you a deal.

When you've gotten everything you need, you can tie me to a nearby fence or sign. Just for this purpose, I always keep some rope that doesn't chafe against my skin but still holds fast.

That really covers everything. Every mugger has his own interpretation of how to do a proper mugging, so I will respect your decisions. But if you follow my advice, the whole mugging can be as quick as a handshake.

I look forward to being mugged by you, and good luck!

Advanced Genius Theory Book Review

There is a very nice interview at adequacy.net. My favorite part had only a little to do with the book:

Sitting back while Hartley elaborates the theory and reasons whether so-and-so has Advanced or is a even a candidate for future Advancement is a true pleasure. If you and your friends have ever taken an absurd idea to the extreme, The Advanced Genius Theory should strike a chord with you. For instance, one night my buddies and I came along a copy of Face Value by Phil Collins and “discovered” Collinsization, which is simply playing Phil Collins to one of your friends when they don’t expect it (and it predated the Rick Roll by a good 5 years). So that night we called our one friend who admitted the first cassette he owned was Invisible Touch, and another friend who is English and so was guilty by geography, and simply played a little “In the Air Tonight” and “I Missed Again” into the telephone. It was such a fun humiliation game that we spent the rest of the night hashing the theory out: If you hear Collins, it’s Collinsization, but if you hear a Genesis song it’s Genesicide, and if you listen to Phil Collins on purpose it’s called Sussudiocide. In those years it wasn’t strange to see someone cover their ears and run out of a bar to avoid the humiliation. Debates carried on about whether you could be visually Collinsized simply by seeing his face, or if his voice and/or drum breaks were the only valid means to the end. Side theories developed such as Enomunization, or the idea that listening to Phil Collins in small doses as the drummer on Brian Eno’s solo records makes you less susceptible to harm through Collinsization. It is this rigorous and imaginative spirit that Hartley channels when detailing Advancement.

Sussudiocide.

Bobcat Goldthwait to Turn Kinks Album Into Movie

Oh my (Guardian):

Raspy-voiced comedian Bobcat Goldthwait will direct a film based on the Kinks' Schoolboys in Disgrace, according to reports. The manic funny man, best known for appearing in the Police Academy films, has written a screenplay based on the 1976 album. Ray Davies will act as executive producer.

The original Schoolboys in Disgrace is a musical about a young trouble-maker, who transforms into super-villain Mr Flashs after being humiliated by his headmaster. "Schoolboys in Disgrace is a story that any kid who has felt that they are not being treated fairly can relate to, all set to some of the greatest rock songs you'll ever hear," Goldthwait told the Hollywood Reporter.

I hereby declare this the most exciting--and potentially Advanced--project of the year! (Thanks to Jeff)

The Velvet Underground - The Quine Tapes

Wow:

 The Velvet Underground – The Quine Tapes is a definitive document of the live Velvet Underground. Captured on tape by Quine in San Francisco and St. Louis between May and December of 1969, the recordings feature the Velvet Underground’s final lineup of Reed, guitarist Sterling Morrison, drummer Moe Tucker and bassist Doug Yule. The material includes incendiary performances of such seminal Velvets standards as “I’m Waiting for the Man,” “What Goes On,” “Sunday Morning,” “Femme Fatale,” “White Light/White Heat,” “Venus in Furs,” “Heroin,” “New Age,” “The Black Angel’s Death Song” and “Rock and Roll.” Also included is a rare performance of the “Follow the Leader,” an original song which the band never officially released, as well as stunningly different versions of the epic “Sister Ray.” 

More here.

Gorillaz & Lou Reed - Some Kind of Nature Live at Glastonbury 2010

Please note everything about this performance by Lou Reed with Gorillaz.

Steve Martin's Tour Rider

Click and blow up, or see it here.

Why Are Our Pirates So Depressed?

"I feel like I'm in a hole that just keeps getting deeper and blacker. I know rationally that there's nothing wrong, but I just can't feel happy. And I cry at everything: TV commercials, books, plundering, you name it. Yar."
-- Black B.

Why is one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared pirates in history so unhappy? He is suffering from the little-known condition Un-Jolly Roger Syndrome (UJRS). Pirates dedicate their existence almost exclusively to finding treasure, often at the expense of getting an education, developing a strong support system, or creating the social network necessary for dealing with life after the treasure is found. They define themselves by their search for gold, diamonds, rubies, and assorted valuables, so once the search is over, a void is left that they find difficult to fill. "I thought all my troubles were over when I found that treasure," says Black B., "But boy, was I ever wrong. Once the euphoria wore off, I realized that it was the hunting for the treasure that sustained me, not the treasure itself." And Black B. is not alone.

"After I found my treasure, I gave up pirating right away. Now I have to find an excuse to wake up in the morning. Sure, I've knocked three strokes off my handicap, but I used to be the terror of the Seven Seas for chrissakes. Yar!"
-- Blue B.

Like many retirees, pirates have a hard time adjusting to life after they acquire their treasure and leave pirating behind. This transition is particularly difficult for them because they have spent their lives at sea and are not used to day-to-day life on land. "I had never taken out the garbage in my life," observes Blue B. "Now, I have to do it every Monday and Thursday. What? Oh, I mean, Tuesday and Friday. I always forget." Blue B. says that his efforts to find a substitute for the highs of searching for treasure gave him little satisfaction: "For a while there, I was really into Napster. It was kind of cool that I could get all my favorite shanties for nothing. I was a pirate again! But then those landlubbers at the RIAA put a stop to that. I mean, I still steal software, but it's not the same." Blue B. eventually put his treasure in a chest, buried it, made a map disclosing the chest's location, and then left the map in a location that was not secure. "I know it sounds stupid. I spend my whole life seeking treasure, then, when I finally find it, I bury it, make a map with a big X on it where the treasure is, and leave the map lying around where just about anyone could find it. And the clues were really easy to figure out. It's like I wanted someone to find it so I have to go get my treasure back."

"Sometimes I think the world with just be better off if I let that crocodile eat me. Yar?"
-- Captain H.

A big part of pirate culture is excessive consumption of spirits, so many with UJRS are also alcoholics. This problem is exacerbated because most pirates do not feel comfortable talking openly about their feelings, even though alcoholism and depression are extremely common in this population. Consequently, they feel isolated, causing them to drink even more as a form of self-medication. This cycle can make their depression worse and can even lead to suicide. Though no official statistics exist, it has been estimated that more than 3,000 pirates a year walk off their own planks. In one of our interviews, Captain H. mused, "There isn't a whole lot of 'yo-ho-ho' left in my life." He added with a mournful chuckle, "But there's plenty of rum." A week after he was interviewed for this article, Captain H. was tragically murdered by an assailant who was described as "dressed in green, extremely quick and elusive...almost childlike." Many who knew the captain question whether his death might have actually been, effectively, a suicide. "It was like he just let it happen. How could that little guy kill such a powerful man?" said a friend who sailed with the captain for seventeen years. "It just doesn't make any sense, you know?"

"I even kicked my parrot. That was when I knew I needed help. Yar...."
--Long John S.

The good news is that UJRS can be overcome with therapy and medication. After three stints in a rehabilitation clinic, Black B. started a twelve-step program just for pirates called "You Are Remarkable" or Y.A.R. "We've got more than 8,000 members at Y.A.R. in five different countries." Blue B. became a member of Y.A.R. a year ago and has recently won his first tournament on the Senior PGA Tour. Long John S., who is not a member or Y.A.R. but attends therapy regularly, is perhaps the most successful ex-pirate of them all. His therapist, Dr. Robin Cohen, treats several ex-pirates with UJRS. His approach, which he calls "Thinking Outside the Chest," encourages them to focus on other aspects of life besides treasure. According to Long John S., the approach works. "Sure, I had tons of treasure, but Dr. C made me realize that it wasn't worth anything just sitting in a chest." With his treasure and a small-business grant from the state of California, Long John S. started a business of his own. "I asked myself, 'Long, what do you know better than anything?' The answer was seafood." His seafood restaurant was an immediate success and has since grown into an international franchise. Long John S. now splits his time between his business and motivational speaking, using his own story as inspiration to audiences across the world. "I thought my life was over after pirating. But now I'm one of the most successful businessmen in the United States. Yar."

The Cambridge Companion to Schoenberg

From a press release:

"“The artist never has a relationship with the world, but rather always against it; he turns his back on it, just as it deserves. But his most fervent wish is to be so independent…”
–Arnold Schoenberg

One of the most important and controversial figures in 20th century music, Austrian composer Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951) has often been labeled as an isolated elitist. His notoriously challenging work has polarized the music community: while some consider his works, theories, and signature ideas as essential, for many his music remains beyond the pale. Both sides of the debate, however, perceive Schoenberg as a contrarian artist cut off from society—is this justified?

The Cambridge Companion to Schoenberg (Cambridge University Press, August 2nd, 2010) rejects such monolithic views, and instead demonstrates how Schoenberg’s music and thought were profoundly engaged with the musical and artistic movements of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Edited by Jennifer Shaw and Joseph Auner, this unique volume illustrates that Schoenberg’s music incorporated and critiqued the fundamental cultural, social, and political disruptions that he lived through. Furthermore, it discusses in-depth Schoenberg’s little-known, mutually influential relationships with major figures, such as Richard Strauss, Wassily
Kadinsky, and Hanns Eisler.

With 15 other expert contributors, The Cambridge Companion to Schoenberg includes:

· Introductions to Schoenberg’s important works and to his
groundbreaking innovations, such as twelve-tone compositions
· Assessments of his interactions with leading artists and composers
· A discussion of his lasting influence on other composers and writers
over the last century"

Overt or Advanced? And why doesn't anyone dress for ping pong anymore?

The Week: Jason Hartley's 6 Favorite Books (Hey, That's Me!)

Not really my favorite books, but six books that have some connection with the Advanced Genius Theory. Check it out at The Week!

The Energy Solution

The announcement three months ago that Europa, one of the moons of Jupiter, has the potential of producing nearly two years' worth of oil created quite a buzz in the energy industry. And last night, Ted Stevens, CEO of a consortium of oil companies called NewEnergy, announced that it, along with General Motors, has devised a way to get the oil safely and cheaply. Soon after the oil was discovered, Exxon, Shell, and British Petroleum pooled their research and development teams to find an efficient means of getting to Jupiter, putting in place drilling equipment, extracting the oil, and getting it back to Earth. "We knew it would be too expensive to launch a traditional rocket because the payload would be so great," said Piet Balkenende, the leader of the Shell team. "So we modified an engine that would not only launch the rocket, but power the vehicles and drilling equipment." This engine, called the Bunny (after the popular mascot for Energizer batteries), is similar to a regular combustion engine, but instead of liquid fuel, it uses a battery only slightly more powerful than an ordinary nine-volt. The rechargeable battery can power the engine of the moon vehicle for six years or more with just one charge.

According to Mr. Balkenende, this technology is not entirely new. "Since 1968, we'd had a working prototype that powered a vehicle we called the Batt-Mobile [an allusion to the Batmobile from TV's Batman], but we just didn't have a commercial use for it. So it just sat around our facility gathering dust." After the oil was discovered on Europa, that changed. "One of our technicians was thinking about the launch problem when he decided to take the Batt-Mobile out for a spin to relax his mind," explained Mr. Balkenende. "After riding around for a bit, he asked a technician when the battery had last been charged. When he discovered that it hadn't been charged for nearly 40 years, he thought maybe he had found a solution to our problem." Still, even with the Bunny, the necessary equipment to extract the oil would be too heavy to be carried to Europa. That's where General Motors came in.

"During the 1970s we developed an alloy called Feather Steel that was stronger than titanium but was as light as balsa wood," says James Bryson, head of product development at General Motors. "Not only was it strong and light, but it was incredibly cheap. But what do you do with something like that?" GM scrapped the Feather Steel project, and it was all but forgotten. However, Ronald Murray, a member of the original team that developed Feather Steel heard about NewEnergy's problem and thought the alloy was the answer. Mr. Murray contacted Mr. Bryson, who then contacted Mr. Stevens with whom he went to Andover Academy. "I knew that if we could make the space cars and drilling equipment from Feather Steel," said Mr. Bryson, "we'd be in business."

The teams at NewEnergy and General Motors quickly went to work, and, within a week, they had a working vehicle called the Batt-Mobile Lite, as well as drilling equipment weighing a total of five and a half pounds. The oil will be stored in new Feather Steel tanks that will be able to withstand the stress and heat of re-entering the earth's atmosphere. Mr. Bryson reported that "The tanks are spill proof, so even if the rocket crashes in the ocean, we won't lose a drop."  The rocket's engine was fitted with a Bunny the size of a loaf of bread, which will provide more than enough power to get the rocket and its payload to Europa and back. There has been only one minor setback: The launch was scheduled on July 12 (Henry Thoreau's birthday), but it had to be moved to July 30 (Henry Ford's birthday) due to recent flooding caused by the melting of a nearby glacier.

Mr. Stevens believes that the Bunny and Feather Steel could have many uses in the future. "We plan to send out rockets all over the galaxy in search for petroleum. The Batt-Mobile Lite costs only about $15 to make, so there's virtually no limit to how many planets and moons we can explore." After a moment of reflection, he added, "Just think: If we can find oil out in the far reaches of space, we could solve our energy problem here on earth for generations to come without asking people to change the way they live." And we'll have the heroes at General Motors and NewEnergy to thank.

Advanced Genius Theory on EW Book Blog, Shelf Life

See it all here, and read a snippet below:

Do people ever argue with you? Do they say, ‘So and so isn’t Advanced, what are you talking about’?
First they dismiss the idea completely, and think I’m joking. I say no, I’m not joking. Then they get mad at the idea, because they think Well, if you’re just saying that everything they do is good, then you’re giving all the power away of discernment. Once I tell them Well, the reason why I feel like it’s ok to say that whatever Lou Reed produces is going to be good is because he did good work for 25 years and why would he all of a sudden become wrong, then they’ll kind of be mad. Then they’ll come back to me an hour later and say, What about Prince, and I’ll answer. Then they’ll come back later and say, What about George Clinton, and I’ll say No, he’s not, and they’ll get mad again. Then they’ll come back with a few more guesses and once they’re right few times, they become addicted and won’t leave me alone! That’s usually what happens. Some people won’t even entertain the idea, and I think that is to their detriment.
What made you decide to write this book? Were so many people asking you for the rules you decided to make this handbook?
Partially that. People kept asking about it after basically 15 years or so of talking about it. Different people would ask, and it always seemed to catch on with people. I’m not necessarily great at figuring out what people care about. I can’t pitch articles, I can’t do any of that stuff, but this seemed to have some broad and lasting appeal. It wasn’t a purely commercial idea, although selling out is advanced, so I’m not ashamed to say it. [laughs] It struck me that it did have some appeal, and when I started to bat the idea around I started to see that there was more to it, and it started to develop as a more holistic look at art and genius and our perception of those things. It started to be more of a way of life and a way of looking at life than just a way to explain Lou Reed’s bad haircut.

After you read it, why not join the Advanced Genius Theory facebook group? Would love to have you.

Megan Fox: The Girl With the Advanced Tattoo?

Apparently there is some interest in one of Megan Fox's tattoos (EW):

Celebrity tattoos can be meaningful (Angelina Jolie’s veritable UNESCO of cultural runes), amusing (Johnny Depp’s palimpsestic “Wino Forever”), and unfortunate (everything Steve-O has ever done to himself), but rarely are they truly mysterious. Now, of all people, Megan Fox is stirring up literary debate over who is the source of her latest inking. With all the words written on her body, it makes you wonder whether she might be suffering from some Memento-style amnesia, but this newest text is probably a little too cryptic to be of any practical use. Her right side now reads “Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.”

That is not the worst way to describe the reaction to Advanced Artists. I'm going to have thoroughly research images of Fox to see if she merits any consideration.

Dr. Demento Going off the Air (Sort of)

From the website:

This weekend, the Dr. Demento Show will have its final broadcast on KIYU, KLOO, WLVQ (QFM96), WRKH (The Rocket) and KOZT (The Coast).

This was a very painful decision for the Doctor...he really hates to let it go after almost 40 years...but he has come to agree with his manager and his family that it's necessary. The broadcast has been losing money for some time.

THE GOOD NEWS -- Dr. Demento intends to continue producing new shows every week for www.drdemento.com for the foreseeable future. A new one will be available Saturday morning, June 12, and more new shows will be posted every Saturday thereafter.

Also...if you live in or around Amarillo, TX, you're in luck...by special agreement and due to contractual considerations, a version of the internet show will be heard weekly on KACV-FM there, at least through the summer.

The Doctor wishes to express his grateful appreciation to everyone who's been listening in Alaska, Oregon, Ohio, Alabama and California, and hopes all of you will give the www.drdemento.com broadcast a try.

Stay deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemented! 

 I'm surprisingly sad about this, though I haven't listened to the radio show in probably 25 years. I'm glad the show will continue on the Internet, though. In fact, I might just go check out the archive right now.

Salon on Dennis Hopper's Advancement

There was quite a bit of Advancement in Dennis Hopper's career, and Salon has a pretty good take on him (slightly old):

Before Dennis Hopper, who died Saturday of prostate cancer, became a rebel filmmaker or a generational symbol or a legendary debauchee or a Hollywood aesthete and Renaissance man (or a George W. Bush Republican and then an Obama voter), he was an actor. I'm inclined to believe that all the roles Hopper played across 74 years of life and more than 50 years of moviemaking were aspects of his acting career, of his passionate interest in the mysterious fusion of being, imagining and pretending that allows you to be yourself and someone else at the same time.
Hopper appeared in a handful of memorable films -- "Apocalypse Now," "The American Friend" and "Blue Velvet," along with his own "Easy Rider" -- and a seemingly infinite litany of forgettable ones. Even when he performed in children's TV or straight-to-video Eurothrillers or the 1993 film version of "Super Mario Bros.," you always had the feeling that Hopper was performing a kind of existential high-wire act, perhaps more for himself than the audience: How much of his own soulful madness would he let out? How much of the inanity and mediocrity around him would he absorb?

There's more good stuff in the article...

Advanced Genius Theory in Publishers Weekly

A review (Publishers Weekly):

Jason Hartley, foreword by Chuck Klosterman. Scribner, $15 paper (288p) ISBN 9781439102367
Fans of any art form or entertainment—especially music—have seen at least one beloved favorite's youthful brilliance, with time, turn to embarrassing self-parody. What pop culture writer Hartley proposes is that their genius hasn't faded—it's just outstripped the public's ability to appreciate. Though it can feel a bit tongue-in-cheek, Hartley gently advances his "Advanced Genius Theory" with rigor, enthusiasm, and a game sense of (re-)discovery. Eschewing the snide critical distance that many fans take for granted, Hartley gives the artist in question the benefit of the doubt: if we accept that Lou Reed, for example, was a musical genius in his youth, are we even qualified to say he's lost his brilliance as he's gotten older? (Regarding George Lucas, Hartley submits: "The fact is, Jar Jar Binks is no better or worse than Chewbacca. Just ask your dad.") Defining his terms clearly ("Advanced" geniuses must have alienated their original fans and lost much of their popularity), he proceeds through key aspects and examples of his theory, including the ideas of "Overt" achievement and "Irritants," the "most advanced musicians of all time" (Bob Dylan and Lou Reed), and the Advanced success story of Steve Martin. Though it should ignite many debates over whether your current favorite is Overt or Advanced, it also shows that, in either case, there's more pleasure to be found when one keeps an open mind.

 This reviewer understands me.

Advanced Genius Theory on Too Much Information

I did a live, one-hour show at WFMU yesterday. The show is called Too Much Information and the host, Benjamin Walker, was really accommodating. Plus he had a great take on the Advanced Theory. I only wish we could have had another hour.

If you want to listen to the results, go to the TMI page.

I'm going to be doing a few other radio appearances. If you want updates, just look at the Twitter thing on the side of this blog, follow me on Twitter, or join my facebook group, all of which you can do by clicking those big pictures to the right.

And, oh yeah, you can also buy my book.

Orson Welles at Salon.com

This idea sounds familiar:

In one basic respect, [author] Chris Feder shares with the general public a sense of frustration that the great man didn't furnish what was either wanted or expected of him most of the time; this was his genius as well as his misfortune. For in order for an artist (or a father) to be consistent and dependable -- that is to say, consumable, offering some sense of security -- he has to behave predictably, and this was the last thing Welles was capable of doing most of the time. Producing works that were unforeseeable and therefore somewhat indigestible when they first appeared, which meant that we all often had to spend years catching up with them, he was out of step mainly because he remained ahead of our expectations. He had to pay an enormous price for this, but so did we.

Read the whole thing.

Advanced Genius Theory in AccessAtlanta

Had a good interview with an editor at the Atlanta Journal Constitution. Here's a bit of the article on one of their partner sites:

For everyone who has ever bought the latest CD by their favorite rock legend and been disappointed, here’s the book for you.
 “The Advanced Genius Theory” (Simon and Schuster, $15) by Atlanta author Jason Hartley asserts that no matter what they do, musicians like Brian Wilson, Sting and Bob Dylan have not lost their musical minds. They are just so genius, they are still ahead of the times, and their former fans just haven’t caught up to them yet.
Hartley’s theory, which he first cooked up over a meal at Pizza Hut with lifelong friend Britt Bergman, classifies musicians as Overt or Advanced. Overt musicians may be “conventionally brilliant,” but their talent is limited, and they tend to appeal to a small fan base. Advanced musicians start out Overt, but not only do they eventually gain a mass following, they ultimately alienate their original fan base by producing work spectacularly different from what launched their careers.

There may be more in the AJC Sunday paper.

George Lucas Writes a Letter to "Lost"

From Zap2it:

Congratulations on pulling off an amazing show. Don't tell anyone ... but when 'Star Wars' first came out, I didn't know where it was going either. The trick is to pretend you've planned the whole thing out in advance. Throw in some father issues and references to other stories -- let's call them homages -- and you've got a series.

In six seasons, you've managed to span both time and space, and I don't think I'm alone in saying that I never saw what was around the corner. Now that it's all coming to an end, it's impressive to see how much was planned out in advance and how neatly you've wrapped up everything. You've created something really special. I'm sad that the series is ending, but I look forward to seeing what you two are going to do next.

That first part is further evidence that he is Advanced. Speaking of which, the book goes on sale today. Get it anywhere, including Amazon.

Advanced Genius Theory at Atlanta's Yacht Club (A Capella Books)

I'll be appearing at the Euclid Avenue Yacht Club at 7 PM on Thursday night.Come join me if you can. I'll be signing books and reading, plus taking a few questions I would imagine.

The Yacht Club is located in the heart of little 5 points:
1136 Euclid Ave NE | Atlanta, GA 30307 | 404.688.2582

Advanced Genius Theory in the Wall StreetJournal

I wrote something for WSJ. I'll let them describe the premise:

People routinely argue the late-career output of brilliant artists like Bob Dylan or Steve Martin is inferior to their earlier work. Who could watch “Cheaper by the Dozen 2″ and think it’s as good as “The Jerk?” In his new book,”The Advanced Genius Theory” (Scribner), author Jason Hartley offers an intriguing defense, suggesting our creative heroes are so sophisticated we can’t understand their artistic intentions.
Intrigued, we asked Hartley to put his theory to the test and argue the merits of Paul McCartney’s “Freedom” — a 9/11 tribute song so trite it’s actually offensive.

Read why it isn't offensive at all!

New Devo Album

Allow me to cut and paste from a press release I just got:

DEVO are set to release their first new studio album in 20 years.  The new album, entitled "Something For Everybody," is the follow-up to 1990's "Smooth Noodle Maps."  UK release date for the album is Monday June 14th, followed by North American release on Tuesday 15th June. 

Thirty years ago, people said that we were cynical, that we had a bad attitude, says Devo's Mark Mothersbaugh. "But now, when you ask people if de-evolution is real, they understand that there was something to what we were saying. It's not the kind of thing you want to see proven right, but it does make it easier to talk about."

More than three decades after the release of their visionary debut, Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo, and a full 20 years since their last studio album, Devo are back with the aptly titled "Something for Everybody". The long rumored, wildly anticipated album (which was recently launched with a memorable performance in Vancouver at the Winter Olympics) features the band's classic line-up - Mark and Bob Mothersbaugh, Gerald and Bob Casale - joined by drummer Josh Freese (Nine Inch Nails, Guns n' Roses).  Click here for the full announcement and album artwork - http://www.noblepr.co.uk/Press_Releases/wme/devo.htm  Produced by Greg Kurstin (The Bird & The Bee), the album also includes contributions from John Hill and Santi White (better known as rising hip-hop star Santigold), John King of the Dust Brothers, and the Teddybears.

Devo's sound, style, and philosophy have been an influence on artists from Rage Against the Machine to Lady Gaga. Kurt Cobain once said, "Of all the bands who came from the underground and actually made it in the mainstream, Devo is the most challenging and subversive of all." The world is in sync with Devo, says his band-mate and co-writer Gerald Casale. "We're not the guys who freak people out and scare them - we're like the house band on the Titanic, entertaining everybody as we go down."

Advanced Genius Theory in Atlanta's Creative Loafing

A bit of it:

How would you sum up The Advanced Genius Theory for the uninitiated?
It started out with a simple observation. Lou Reed used to be really great, but then he got terrible. Rather than just assume that sucking was the inevitable conclusion to every artist's career, my friend Britt Bergman and I explored some alternative explanations. We seized upon one idea in particular: Maybe if Reed was ahead of his time when he was fronting the Velvet Underground, then isn't it possible that he would still be ahead of his time in the present day? And perhaps his evolution, or "advancement" as it came to be called, would be so much more pronounced that it would take longer and longer for us to understand his work.
Central to the theory is this, people were very comfortable in the 1980s saying that Bob Dylan had "lost it," that he had completely lost the sense of what is good. Our argument was that it is much more likely that you have lost it, not Dylan, based on not only his body of work, but his encyclopedic knowledge of American music. It just makes sense to me that he is on a different plane than most of us, but most people don't like it when someone is smarter than they are, so they find a reason to hate them.

Read the whole thing.

TCM's Orson Welles Film Festival

From PopMatters:

On Thursday, 6 May, Turner Classic Movies will air a mini Welles film festival, featuring a few of the films that the controversial and ruthlessly ambitious Welles deigned to appear in for filthy lucre, as well as his 1941 landmark classic, Citizen Kane (showing at 5:45 PM, all times EST).

The first film in the impressive line-up, shot for RKO Pictures in 1942 from a screenplay by Welles and actor Joseph Cotten (based on a novel by influential British spy novelist Eric Ambler), is Journey into Fear (airing at 11:30 AM), described by Welles biographer and noted French film critic Andre Bazin as “a rather humorous and fantastic spy story set in Turkey” during World War II. There has been much doubt over the years, however, concerning the true director behind the film. In Orson Welles: A Critical View Bazin notes:     “In theory, Norman Foster was the director of this film, with Welles producing and acting. In point of fact, it is clear that Journey into Fear is to a great extent the work of Welles, who has left his mark on the script, while numerous directorial touches bear his stamp, notably the killer’s musical motif, in which one recognizes Welles’ taste for musical effects and aural atmosphere. Moreover, after the first press show, dissatisfied with the film’s last sequence, Welles demanded and obtained permission to reshoot it.”

Welles, in case you didn't know, was seriously Advanced.

Cold Comfort: Woody Allen Interview

From Commonweal (where you can read it all):

RL: When Ingmar Bergman died, you said even if you made a film as great as one of his, what would it matter? It doesn’t gain you salvation. So you had to ask yourself why do you continue to make films. Could you just say something about what you meant by “salvation”?
WA: Well, you know, you want some kind of relief from the agony and terror of human existence. Human existence is a brutal experience to me…it’s a brutal, meaningless experience—an agonizing, meaningless experience with some oases, delight, some charm and peace, but these are just small oases. Overall, it is a brutal, brutal, terrible experience, and so it’s what can you do to alleviate the agony of the human condition, the human predicament? That is what interests me the most. I continue to make the films because the problem obsesses me all the time and it’s consistently on my mind and I’m consistently trying to alleviate the problem, and I think by making films as frequently as I do I get a chance to vent the problems. There is some relief. I have said this before in a facetious way, but it is not so facetious: I am a whiner. I do get a certain amount of solace from whining.
RL: Are you saying the humor in your films is a relief for you? Or are you sort of saying to the audience, “Here is an oasis, a couple of laughs”?
WA: I think what I’m saying is that I’m really impotent against the overwhelming bleakness of the universe and that the only thing I can do is my little gift and do it the best I can, and that is about the best I can do, which is cold comfort.

 Remember that the next time you're watching Bananas.

Google Number-One Image: "hippies"

Above is what the Google algorithm feels is the ideal match for a search on "hippies." I think I might make this a series.

Ridiculous Guitars

I wanted to see some ridiculous guitars, so I typed in "ridiculous guitars." The result? Ridiculous guitars! This site (which appears to exist solely to serve ads) has what it calls the 20 most ridiculous guitars ever, but I encourage you to do your own searches. I bring this up because I don't have anything to write about, but also because the Advanced like ridiculous guitars.