YEAHMonday, January 16, 2012
Current progress on student choice test grade (Album)
“Where’s He Going” by John Fitzgerald
Yeah, It goes First to last
Leave a crater on impact, It’s a fact
Plead your case and get smacked
Yeah, sayin’ first is the worst
You’re Times New Roman, I’m a little more cursive
Rollin’ so damn deep with these cursed verses
Rumoring when the bad word disperses
Bad news; the worst is always fallin’ on deaf ears
HA, ask me where I’ll be sittin’ in ten years
The man in your nightmares, he’s stirrin’ your fears
The reason Ray Charles was always drownin’ in tears
Tearin’ apart the family, misunderstanding is the schism
New trends; edgier than a rectangular prism
Mixed emotions,
He’s gone and she doesn’t know if she should miss ‘em
More than a few problems these days, here I’ll list ‘em.
Chorus:
Yeah, ashes to ashes, dust to dust
All that glitters is gold but then it turns to rust
Tryna catch up with the rest; tryna fulfill
Her only source of calories was her diet pills
Even superman’s retreating, gottem askin’ “where’s he going?”
As the clouds of smog in the distance behind him keep growing
Yeah, Skies go hazy in this crazy delirium
Poor kid had no idea that it was steering em’;
Straight, Into on-coming traffic
It’s tragic how his addiction bounced back like an elastic
How fantastic, he starts stealin from thugs and gets his ass kicked
Actions turn drastic
Man, we all know where the story goes from here
Long prison sentence, he been locked up for years
His thoughts were a fog, but his conscience was clear
The reason superman flew so far away from here
[Chorus Fades]
“Below it All” by John Fitzgerald
We’re doin’ what they told us
He can tell he’s at the bottom cos' the world is on his shoulders
High rollers, square wheels, candle holders
Candle light like a vigil, vigilante
Kill the lights, up the ante.
Michael Franti
I be gone
Hit my stride and move along.
Lookin’ down; at his shoes
Looks back up just to look at you,
So long, see ya later
Hater, tryna stop him dead in his tracks
Dead wrong, the poor bastard fell between the cracks
In his mind, like a canyon
Swallows your dreams and then becomes your companion
(shift in tempo)
Predator, nasty when he takes the mask off
Count back 3,2,1 and watches em’ blast off
He’s a rap star, no stoppin him now
Ego inflated, smiling at the crowd
Cloud 9, elevate to the music
Platonic relations, never known to abuse it
On another level of revelation
Tellin’ the world he oughta tell the nation
Telekinesis, twist ya thoughts like the karma sutra
Non-linear time, lookin inward at his old future
Money the cake, thin slice like a butcher
Age differential, no cares, Ashton Kutcher
Cut your hair, change your name
Skip town, who’s to blame?
That acapella,
Lack of a better beat, its all the same
He’s taming the lost art of originality
Smooth verses on the mic, call it counter-brutality
A firm dose of loose reality
Pinched when he’s dreamin’
Wakes up, smells the coffee, and starts schemin’
A plot, to scratch and claw his way to the top
To stray away from the normal and the everyday pop
Like I said, hes a rap star, just try to get him to stop.
Aim high, might as well skip the prologue
Wave to the little people, crowds of them “Roloffs”
Cold heart; in angular degrees never Celsius
Change the angle of your approach; even hell sees us
We them crowd pleasers, Trailer; park; video teasers
What a feat, to visualize a life outside of Norton
But you’re too busy rottin your brain with them bath chemicals you’re snortin’
Think it’s funny with that ear-to-ear smile I’m sportin’
Horton heard the “Whos” but who the hell heard Horton?
OH, oh no, not a soul to be heard by
Like roadkill, anonymous death on the turnpike
My advice, keep a fear of remaining unheard
Jinx, you owe me a coke, and don’t you say one word
(Instrumental Break)
Next in line; the weakest link just broke
The food chain swings and you just let go
Of yourself, loss of inhibition
An epiphany, yeah, he claims he saw it in a vision
An apparition, crouched down by his bedside
Turn the water blood-red like the red tide
Bio-luminescent, shine like a full moon when it’s a crescent
No money, more problems, his life as a peasant
Pinch a penny, oughta stretch it a mile
Immune to that stench, he’s been in it a while
Yeah, it’s a new day, same s**t…bigger pile
Speaking figuratively of course
The man was so hungry he could ride a horse…
Or something, of that variety
Caste system, welcome to the flyer society
Oh my, it’s me, and on my back is a target
Leave your attitude at the door so it doesn’t get on my carpet
Pluralized, many clones of which
Causes the confusion and all the styles to switch
Off and on like a light switch
Fresh hat, expensive clothes and some diamonds on yo’ wrist
I’ve seen it all before, show me something I missed.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Backmasking Assignment
As far as subliminal messaging in music goes, most cases are forced by the listener, but in some cases there are very profound instances of subliminal messaging in the form of backmasking. In my opinion, there are very few actual cases of backmasking in music, meaning all other supposed cases are influenced by knowing what to listen for beforehand.
1) In the song “Hit Me Baby, One More Time” by Britney Spears, at one point in the song, when played backwards says clearly: “sleep with me, I’m not too young”. Even without the previous suggestion of what to listen for, one can easily identify what she is saying.
2) In “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin there are frequent backmasked references to the devil. Though the backwards words are very obscure and difficult to identify, I personally recognize this as one of the more credible instances of satanic backmasking because of the mysterious nature of the band.
3) In the “Dora the Explorer” Theme song there are some rather concerning instances of backmasking, but the so called “satanic messages” were forced by the notion that they existed in the first place.
4) Another case of backmasking in popular children’s cartoon is in the “Pokémon Rap” on the animated children’s show “Pokémon”. When the phrase “Gotta catch em all” is played backwards it sounds eerily similar to “I love satan”. But I would also dismiss this as being a credible case of subliminal messaging simply because of the harmless nature of the television show.
5) In Eminem’s “My Name is” there is a backmasked message that is quite possibly intentional. When the phrase “Hi! My name is... (what?) My name is... (who?) My name is... {scratches} Slim Shady.” Is played backwards it says “It is slim, It’s Eminem, It’s Eminem”. Eminem is a pretty clever rap artist, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he actually intended for this to happen.
Song Writing Assignment
“Fly Paper” by John Fitzgerald
Redundant like an ignorant ignoramus
I’m not even famous
Pen plus paper equals heinous
…Rhymes in times like these
A decent joke is like a cool breeze-
Never seen… like when a horse walks into a bar
A celebrity on heroin; call ‘em a shooting star
get high on life?
It seems they’ve built up a tolerance
My pockets must be blind
Because they haven’t seen a dollar since
Funny how I find a way to keep smiling
Like when I found out ‘booty call’ doesn’t mean ‘butt dialing’
I’m a villainous hero, a caped crusader
I’ll burn you like a slip n’ slide made out of sandpaper
Addicted to my rhymes
Call it hooked on phonics
Your team is nonexistent; Seattle Supersonics
I’ve gotta be honest, this rap thing’s pretty easy
So why’s everyone givin’ all the credit to weezy?
I’m like the little engine that didn’t even bother
Mad as baby new year looking for his biological father
Economic BOOM, sellin’ atoms by the slice
Rhymes scarier than skinny jeaned 8th graders on bikes
Paradoxically speaking,
The aroma is wreaking-
Havoc like a gas line left leaking.
I just can’t stop, man, my thoughts are corrupt
You want some fries with that shake? Or Two girls with that cup?
Sorry, that was kinda inappropriate,
got a problem with that? You can talk to my associate
I think I’m on to something,
but it’s so hard to express
I guess that’s what happens when the fresh prince ain’t feelin so fresh.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Pink Floyd- "Hey You" Short Story
Hey You!
May 21st, 2014; a date forever burned into my psyche like the brands that were put on our arms that very day. There was no warning, everything just collapsed; the government, the media, all forms of culture that made us human; gone. On that day, the wall was formed; a wall that made The Berlin Wall that once divided our city look like a threshold into a doorway, a wall that separated us from the outside world. Since the wall was formed our previously booming metropolitan society was now a communist driven machine that bore resemblance to those in the cheesy sci-fi novels that I once read before everything went south. Our battered society soon grew rigid and mechanized under the strict enforcement of martial law… or whatever it is THEY called it to make it sound more appealing. “THEY”, being the Swiss. Yes, Switzerland
But that was all long ago, ten years ago to be exact. At this point, life before the collapse was a hazy memory at most, and the monotonous task of scrubbing the wall from 9am to 5pm was now as regular an activity as going to school in the morning was back when things were normal. But not everyone was as cooperative as the Swiss had intended. It seemed futile at the time, but our numbers soon grew and we became as rigid and disciplined under our own rule as the spineless sheep that had blindly followed our captors had become.
Our only time to congregate was before we were picked up to work our eight hour shifts. By what must have been the 15th or 16th time we met, the scrappy grey-haired leader of our ‘group’ who went by Backstein made it clear that it was in his best interest to organize an attack of sorts. “But what kind of attack would be effective against such a massive and omnipotent enemy like the Swiss?” I thought to myself as Backstein quietly rambled off possible plans of attack to the rest of the group. Then he brought up an option that sent chills down my spine. “What if we performed some sort of mass suicide? I mean, if we’re all gone, the Swiss would have no one to control.” Backstein said with a hint of desperation in his voice. We didn’t even know what was out on the other side of that wall; everyone in our contained area had the same brand on their arm. Were these brands used to tell us apart from other groups of people outside of our area? Were we cattle or prisoners? The bottom line was, we didn’t know. Nobody had ever seen past the wall even though we rubbed noses with it every day. And until we found out what was out there, I highly doubted the consideration of such a radical course of action. But what happened next made my heart sink. As Backstein finished explaining his plans of a mass suicide, the rest of the group became restless and excited by the notion. And before I could interject, I felt the sharp sting of a police baton against the back of my thigh; it was the guards. We had gotten so caught up in our discussion that we forgot that the guards were coming in soon to load us into the trucks for our day of work. Luckily the guards didn’t intrude mid-sentence, so they didn’t catch wind of the rebellious nature of our get-together. On the ride over to the wall I heard Backstein whispering to the other groups of people what had been decided earlier, and just like before, this notion was followed by a low hum of approval from the crowd. My greatest fears were now materializing in front of me, these men and women were so desperate for an uprising that they were becoming excited by the thought that they would be able to take a shot at the Swiss as well as put an end to their miserable stay within the confines of the wall even if it meant not being alive for the results. Perhaps my level of desperation hadn’t quite caught up with theirs, or perhaps I was just caught up in my own pessimism, but I KNEW that what these people were considering was insane. Before long we arrived at the wall where we were handed our buckets and rags as we walked in a mechanical single-file line towards the scaffolding that led to the first, second, and third tiers of the wall. I ended up on the third tier which was the highest accessible point on the wall, but still about 20 feet below the top. Once I found a spot on the wall I stood there and scrubbed at nothing. The wall was spotless to begin with, which made our repetitive task all the more meaningless. Hours passed, as I watched the man next to me write in his own blood “Together we stand, Divided we fall” and then furiously scrub it away with his already torn rag. He caught me watching him and quickly started telling me about Backstein’s plan. “Did you hear?” he said “Backstein is having us do it TODAY”. “Well what about the others? Not everyone is going through with this. What’s the point?” I replied quietly, not trying to gain the attention of those around me. “You don’t understand, by the time we’re done there won’t be many people left, our alliance is huge! Once this is done the Swiss won’t know what to do with themselves.” He said with a falsely reassuring chuckle. “Yep, when that air horn goes off at the end our shift, the plan is to grab the nearest guard and take him down with you, pretty solid eh?” The man on the other side of me said who had apparently been listening in this whole time. I looked over at the clock-tower and saw that the shift would be over in about five minutes. “Please, don’t let this happen, this is ridiculous” I said in a frantic yet still hushed tone. “It has to happen. We’ve been here for ten years and we’ve done nothing. It’s about time we did.” He said, returning to his scrubbing. I stood nervously, knees trembling at the thought of what was about to take place. I fixed my eyes upon the clock tower to see that less than 30 seconds remained in the shift. I watched as the people around me soon grew antsy and glanced at each other and looked at the guards closest to them. During this slight commotion I scanned the rows for Backstein, but he was nowhere to be found. I faced the wall as I heard the air horn signal the end of the shift. I heard the rumbling of people sprinting across the scaffolding and the screams of the guards as they were hurled from the ledge. The commotion was short lived, I didn’t dare look down, but instead I looked across the rows which were now sparsely filled with people with perplexed expressions of sheer terror on their faces. This scene was interrupted by a familiar voice sounding over the PA system. It was Backstein. His voice was different, almost maniacal. “With a little bit of undercover work it’s pretty easy to see who your real friends are.” He said with a laugh. “You know what they say: ‘one bad apple spoils the bunch’, well, we had quite a few bad apples spoiling this most glorious society. And I’m glad to announce that they’ve been eradicated. Enjoy your evening.” He said, shutting the PA off accordingly.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Lyrics & Thesis for Song Analysis 2
Fleet Foxes- Mykonos
The door slammed loud and rose up a cloud of dust on us
Footsteps follow, down through the hollow sound, torn up.
And you will go to Mykonos With a vision of a gentle coast
And a sun to maybe dissipate
Shadows of the mess you made
How did animals in the snow tipped pines, I find
Hatching from the seed of your thin mind, all night?
And you will go to Mykonos
With a vision of a gentle coast
And a sun to maybe dissipate
Shadows of the mess you made
Brother you don't need to turn me away
I was waiting down at the ancient gate
You go Wherever you go today
You go today
I remember how they took you down
As the winter turned the meadow brown
You go Wherever you go today
You go today
When a-walking brother don't you forget
It ain't often that you'll ever find a friend
You go Wherever you go today
You go today
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Thesis- "Sodom South Georgia" by Iron and Wine
"papa died smiling, wide as the ring of a bell
gone all star white, small as a wish in a well
and sodom, south georgia woke like a tree full of bees
buried in christmas bows and a blanket of weeds
papa died sunday and i understood
all dead white boys say god is good
white tongues hang out, god is good
papa died while my girl lady edith was born
both heads fell like eyes on a crack in the door
and sodom, south georgia slept on an acre of bones
slept through christmas, slept like a bucket of snow
papa died sunday and i understood
all dead white boys say god is good
white tongues hang out, god is good"
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