Everything I need to know about my job I learned from "Snakes on a Plane."

By now everyone has heard of the movie Snakes on a Plane. Make no mistake about it: this movie's premise is ridiculous. (In case you were wondering, there are these snakes, and wouldn't you know it, they're on this plane.) Stupid? Yes. Idiotic? Yes.

(...)

This movie should be a flop. But against all odds, Snakes on a Plane is poised to be one of the biggest releases of the summer. Why? Because the marketing team behind the promotion of this movie played to their audience perfectly. Snakes on a Plane may be a pretty bad movie, but it's proud of it. Okay, first of all, it's CALLED Snakes on a Plane. If this movie really took itself seriously, it would have some cliché and vague (albeit haunting) name like Terminal Altitude or The Cobra. But no -- this movie is unusual in that it doesn't try to be anything that it is not. It's that unique character -- coupled with the fact that this will be a hilariously bad film -- that appeals to the young moviegoer. Why do I own t-shirts that say "Jive Turkey" (which I am far too suburban-white-pretty-boy to wear) and "Super Mario Bros." (which just indicates my dorkiness)? Because they are ironic, and as far as I am concerned, they are therefore pretty cool. Liking a movie about snakes on a plane -- especially a movie about snakes on a plane that is called Snakes on a Plane -- is so ridiculous that it is funny.

Samuel L. Jackson said he'd only act in the film if the producers KEPT the Snakes on a Plane title. I wonder if, at the time, he knew what a good decision that was. New Line Cinema agreed (grudgingly? I don't know), and as time went by, rumors about the movie spread. It was pretty much agreed by Internet nerds everywhere that the movie looked really, really stupid -- so stupid, in fact, that it was going to be GREAT. The premise was so weird and hilarious that people began to guess what scenes and quotes would look and sound like. Here must have been the crossroads for New Line: ignore the unexpected (but misleading?) buzz, and market the movie as something really inventive and engaging; or pay heed to the nerds and give them what they expect: a movie that is both aware and proud of its absurdity. The answer: let's make the movie look EVEN STUPIDER than it probably is. Face it: it's dumb. We might as well have some fun with it. But of course, the ultimate irony is that this paradoxical "This is a bad movie" marketing strategy is VERY well planned out. Result: profit. According to Wikipedia, New Line even added a line that was presented online as a parody of Samuel L. Jackson's usual film characters: "That's it! I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!" Way to pander to your audience.

The world didn't need another crappy action movie with Samuel L. Jackson in another of his usual roles. The world did need a crappy action movie that managed to be a parody of crappy action movies, without really trying, all the while knowing how ridiculous it was. This movie should have been a box office bomb, but you gotta hand it to the business fatcats involved in the promotion of this movie -- they made a loser into a winner.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take what I've learned, and use it to sell toothpaste. Buy Crest.

Spot on, sir. Spot on.

From the "This is the HEADLINE ARTICLE on AOL news???" category:

Jeopardy Champ Ken Jennings Blasts Show

It turns out Ken Jennings, the guy who won 74 straight games of Jeopardy! (and $2.5 million) recently lambasted the show and host Alex Trebek on his blog. Best of all, he claimed that Trebek is actually a robot:

:: "Nobody knows he died in that fiery truck crash a few years back and was immediately replaced with the Trebektron 4000 (I see your engineers still can't get the mustache right, by the way)."

... Jennings later posted an "apology" for his previous statement:

:: "We regret the insinuation that Mr. Alex Trebek is a robot, and has been since 2004. Mr. Trebek's robotic frame does still contain some organic parts, many harvested from patriotic Canadian schoolchildren, so this technically makes him a `cyborg,' not a `robot."'

Take THAT, Trebek! A human nerd just called you a ROBOTIC nerd! Oh, it's on now!

Actually, Jennings' blog entry is hilarious. Check it out here, and scroll down to the entry called "Dear Jeopardy!" You will be glad you did.

Jobs are Stupid

I've been lookin' online for jobs for the last hour or so, and every single entry-level position I've come across that has sounded even remotely promising has listed "leadership" as one of their desired qualities in an employee. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think an unexperienced entry-level employee should be leading anyone. They're at the bottom of the goddamn foodchain and that's where they should be. If companies would stop their arbitrary buzzword masturbation and actually think about what they needed in employees, they'd realize that one of their primary criterion should be the ability--not to lead--but to be led. Get all these bloody go-getters together in one place and nothing's gonna get done because none of 'em are gonna want to take orders from anyone else; they'll think they should be the ones doing the leading. For you proverb lovers out there, it's that whole "too many chiefs, not enough Indians" dilemma. Or at the very least the whole "too many idiots, not enough Trevors" dilemma. Then again, most aspects of life suffer from that second one.

Hello muddah, hello faddah

So I started teaching at a summer camp on Monday. For those who don't know, this is my fourth year in a row there. Usually I only teach magic, but last year they dumped a science class on me at the last minute. I did so brilliantly with my improvised experiments that this year they decided they could dump another last minute class on me. So now I'm "teaching" this class called Take Apart. Just as the name implies, we take things apart. And as far as I'm concerned, that's pretty much it. I suppose the original point of the class was to actually explain what all the different pieces do with regards to the overall functioning of the thing taken apart, but that's not really my area of expertise. Instead I tend to use a lot of lofty metaphors involving butterflies and canned cheese products, all while saying things like, "They just don't make 'em like that anymore kids!" (Did I mention these are 5 and 6-year-olds?) It's too bad Smithy isn't in the class actually, because I think he would learn a lot about the things he uses pretty much every day...like 1.44 MB floppy disks and Betamax cassette players. Hell, I managed to kill a half hour yesterday just having them take apart a ballpoint pen. With three days left, it's likely that my bullshittery will reach new and exciting heights in the verbal stratosphere. I just hope my head doesn't explode from the sudden change in pressure. That would be gross.

Crib Notes.

My parents and I drove down to Stamford on Friday to move into the new apartment. In light of my recent housing debacle, I didn't know what to expect of the new pad. But as it turns out, it's phatter than Fat Mike. 2 floors: a kitchen, dining room, living room, and half bath on the first; two bedrooms and a full bath on the second. Fresh paint and carpets, central air, all the amenities. Awesome. There's plenty of room, and anyone who wants to visit (except Dick Cheney, Satan, and the members of Nickelback) is more than welcome.

So the apartment is great, and Stamford seems to be a nice place. But I don't start my new job until next Tuesday, so I have a week off. Sounds good, but this week could be long, since I know no one in the Stamford area. I do know some people in New York, but they're all working (I hung out with Fariha on Sunday though, which was a lot of fun). The plan: explore the area, pimp out the apartment (difficult given my limited means), and read.

Today's project was exploration. I decided to ride my bike (i.e., my dad's old bike) down to a beach at Cove Island Park (maybe 3 or 4 miles from my apartment). I packed up my bag and hit the road, excited to be on my own and experiencing a new and different place. But maybe a mile or two into the ride, my front tire popped. I had no choice but to shamefully walk my bike back to my apartment. What a buzzkill. I ended up shopping (necessary but lame), and I'm resolving to do something cooler tomorrow, like write "The Bonfire of the Vanities" or become the Pope.

Pics of the new apartment to come soon, once the place is set up a bit better.

Welcome to the lovely and always amusing Lucy Orloski, the newest contributor to The Haberdasher.

And here are the 2005 World Beard and Moustache Champions:

The joys of bipolarity. For others, I mean.

This sounds familiar...

Manic-Depressive Friend A Blast While Manic

Hey! Do you like to read?

Well do I have something for you! Another blog! Check it out!

http://lastnightadjsavemylife.blogspot.com/

Man I Feel Like A Woman!

Couldn't sleep last night. Up til four. I know it's sad considering I am unemployed but late nights have become the norm. Get up around 1:30. Walk into kitchen. There sits my mom. I grab my nalgene, take a sip, and as I am doing this I guess this becomes a great opportunity to look me up and down cause the next word out of her mouth are: "Tauwan you are getting fat." I had her repeat it just to make sure I heard it correctly. I just finished my sip and walked out...to a mirror of course. Thanks mom. The last person who should be making such comments.[especially in my sister's summertime top. Well at least look's like something Yvonne could fit.] Don't you love it when parents don't bite their tongue? As if I needed another reason to feel as shitty as I have been this summer of 2006.

Slow Your Roll

Jesus you guys, this isn't your own personal tea party here. If you wanna write 1,000 word album reviews and link to stupid videos, start your own damn blog and just tell us to go there. The whole point of the Haberdasher is to keep everyone informed about each other's whereabouts and plans and whatnot, not to spam our senses silly with endless song recommendations (Tauwan!). I don't mean to go all gestapo on y'all, but we gotta maintain some semblance of order here or the whole thing will quickly degenerate into unreadable chaos. A short rant or some observational humor now again is certainly encouraged, as are highly relevant and titillating nuggests of information such as a new Pee-wee movie, but other than that, let's try to keep the focus...how shall I say this? Less retarded. And speaking of retarded: Bruce, did you know a haberdasher was "A dealer in men's furnishings"? I mean, where the fuck did you come up with this name?

Smithie Posts

Sooo kids, I hope this find you all doing well. Here is the deal. Since Smithie is so old we should all post some funny memories that happened a long time ago (ie college). Ill leave it to Brucy or Tmac to start this one off, I am sure they will come up with something that we will all have to try to top.

I'm the juggernaut, bitch!

I guess this clip doesn't need much explanation.

I'm a loner, Dottie. A rebel.

Did anyone else see Paul Reubens on Conan last night? No question about it, this is one weird dude -- he regaled the audience with a story of serving his dad "tea" which was actually water from his toilet -- but I guess I'd be disappointed if the guy who created and played Pee-Wee Herman didn't have a couple of screws loose. Apparently there's been talk of this for a while, but I only learned last night that a new Pee-Wee movie is in the works. (Some sources say two Pee-Wee movies.)

Reubens is in his early 50's, but if Harrison Ford can still play Indiana Jones, I say Pee-Wee is more than prepared for at least one more big adventure. And if the new film is half as good as the original, it'll be fantastic.

This one goes out to the one I love

Love is hard. No one [and I mean no one] is safe from its evil [though sometimes pleasant]claws. Not even our dear childhood bosom buddies Bert and Ernie.

Acoustic rock isn't dead. It just moved to Norway.

Every now and then, I discover a musician that I really like. This happens very rarely for me, at the rate of maybe one or two artists/groups per year. I mean, I'll often come across stuff that I think is good, but only now and then will I find something that I think is really great. Maybe my musical tastes are too particular (though many will be relieved to know that my The Verve Pipe / Brian Vander Ark obsession is in its twilight), or maybe rock in this decade really doesn't measure up to the genre's awesome production in the 90's. Or both. And because I play guitar and have some knowledge of songwriting theory, I tend to heavily analyze the music I hear. What I've decided I like the most is the stuff that combines unique, experimental rhythm and melody with basic (but not overdone) pop sensibility. Sounds simple enough, but in my experience, it's easy to find one or the other, but very difficult to find both. One of my favorite albums in recent memory is The Dissociatives, which combines these seemingly at-odds characteristics perfectly. It's a variable rock album full of weird lyrics, dense orchestration, and great electronic ornamentation, courtesy of Australian DJ Paul Mac. But I digress. In any case, I think this type of music is rare, and my list of favorite artists grows only very slowly. Maybe it's because I don't know how to pinpoint the kind of music I want to hear.

But I know what I like, even if I can't describe it. And I like Sondre Lerche. Lerche is a Norwegian musician of amazing versatility; his work so far is made even more impressive by the fact that he's still in his early 20's. I first heard of him through my brother Drew (thanks Drew!), who owns his 2006 CD Duper Sessions, an album that is very jazzy and yet somehow not jazz. Not exactly a child of the American jazz movement, Lerche leads a traditional four-piece quartet with musically accessible patterns and genuine youthful sincerity and angst.

I like Duper Sessions -- very much -- but it was when I bought Faces Down (2002) that I became really impressed with Lerche's talent. This guy can do it all. Faces Down sounds almost nothing like the Sondre Lerche I thought I knew. It reminds me more of Andrew Bird (another great artist introduced to me by Drew) or Rufus Wainwright. Lerche creates tracks that are at once haunting and cautiously optimistic, leaving the album open to multiple interpretations. The production is excellent; guitars lead but do not dominate the sound; piano and orchestra strings accentuate melodies and lyrics. Though not necessarily "experimental" (admittedly, an ambiguous term) it's musically and emotionally engaging. Faces Down reflects simply great songwriting.

I'm going to buy his other CD, Two Way Monologue (2004), and I just found out that Lerche is planning a marimba album (!) for next year. Most mainstream artists, I think, couldn't pull it off. But so far, I am convinced that this artist can. Make no mistake about it: even at his least poppy, Lerche is basically a pop musician. But he's willing to take the genre into territories that are more or less unchartered (a marimba album?!?), and only a few years into his career, he's demonstrated that he's capable of developing into a truly great artist. If you dig acoustic rock (and by that I do NOT mean John Mayer), then give Sondre Lerche a listen. I think you'll be glad you did.

Wow, I just wrote an inspired music review. Who am I, Tauwan?

To Postest the Mostest.

Okay, so here's how you post. There might be a faster way to do this but i'm just learning how to use this program SO BACK OFF!!!

:: go to www.blogger.com.
:: sign in.
:: where it says The Haberdasher, press the "New Post" Icon (+).
:: write stuff. preferably stuff that doesn't suck.
:: hit the "Publish Post" button.
:: dance.

What a ripoff

The button said that this was the place to go for a new post. But now I'm here and I don't see any friggin' posts at all--new or old! How the hell am I gonna fix my fence?! The coyotes are beginning to steal my children.

The Haberdasher. The Remix. The Revolution.

Shake ya ass. But watch yourself. Everybody Wang Chung tonight. Do what you gotta do, but CELEBRATE, because The Haberdasher is back! Personally, I'm going to dance if I want to, and leave my friends behind. Because my friends don't dance, and if they don't dance, then they're no friends of mine. And of course, I'll be wearing a novelty hat.

So here's the deal. The Haberdasher is a group blog, meaning everyone who gets access to it can post anything they want -- stories, pictures, witty social commentary, idiotic social commentary, other forms of social commentary, etc. The idea is to keep The Novelty Phats (and anyone else who is cool and we invite to join) in touch in these trying post-collegiate times.

Right now you're probably thinking, "Bruce, you're an idiot. And you're ugly. I have important things to do with my life, and I'm not going to waste my time typing inspired social commentary into some blog that no one will read. Get a life, and stop inviting me to this loserblog." Well shut up, just SHUT UP! I'm going out on a limb here, and I don't need your negative nancyisms. Keep it to yourself, and humor me. Or don't. Jerk.