A Brief Commentary on the State of Cliches and Time Travel in Modern Folk Rock

Here is an example of how the future can influence past events. It's kind of like in Back to the Future II, when 2015 Biff steals the Sports Almanac from 1985 Marty and gives it 1955 Biff so that 1985 Hill Valley turns into a toned down version of 2007 Baghdad. But not really.

Anyway, here's what happens. The song is called "Two Points," and it's by a young lady named Deb Talan who'll sing a nice song if you hand her a guitar and a microphone and say please. In the second verse of this song, she sings this fine example of a cliche:

"Why's it get so complicated
When two people make love?"

I remember I cringed a little the first time I heard it. I'd liked the song so much up to then, and she went and threw that little gem in. Seriously, we've all heard it before. Sex complicates relationships. Do you really need to write another song about it? No, you don't. But you did anyway. Crud. But I digress...

The thing is, for people who consider themselves writers, cliches are like fingernails on a blackboard. Case in point: writing that previous line made me shudder like a wet kitten - except I didn't look nearly as cute. I think it has something to do with a deep fear of having someone in a tweed jacket point a finger at us and call us "unoriginal." I don't know where this fear comes from. Maybe it would go away if we just got rid of tweed jackets, but that's another story for another time. But I digress. Again.

Anyway, after that cliche I'd just about written off the song by that point. But imagine my surprise when these lines popped up:

"I wish I were a bird, she said.
So you could fly away? No.
So we could be together,
with no thoughts of yesterday."

And this is why I was surprised. With that first line, she sets you up for yet another cliche. And you should be expecting it at that point, because of what came earlier. Hell, with the 2nd line she actually feeds you the cliche that you should think she's going to say.

" 'I wish I were a bird,' she said."
Then you say, "So you could fly away. Yeah, I get it. Let's all move on."

But instead of sticking with that, she twists it on its head and turns the expected cliche into something quite unexpected.

"No, jerkface: so we could be together with no thoughts of yesterday. God, I'm not that shallow."

See? Unexpected. And even - dare I say? - poignant. It's a nice trick if you can pull it off, and it made me like the song more than if the first cliche hadn't existed at all.

So what does any of this have to do with wayback machines and whatnot? Well, Sherman, let me explain:

1. You hear the first cliche ("...make love...") and you have a particular reaction to it ("Aw, jeez. Really?")
2. You hear the second, twisted non-cliche ("...no thoughts of yesterday...") and you have a contrapuntal reaction to it ("Oh. Huh. Wow. That was nice.")
3. You're forced to re-evaluate your initial reaction to the initial cliche ("Wait a minute. Maybe...")
4. Therefore, events from the future have directly influenced, and changed, events in the past. You just inadvertently traveled in time. QED.

Unless, of course, the 2nd lyric about the birds is just a cliche that I'm not aware of. In that case, I just spent an hour writing this up so I could sound like an idiot. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

Foodstuffs

Just a list: Things that, when I tell people I won't eat them, make those people want to punch me in the throat.

10. Kettle Corn
9. Cheese, in most of its forms (more on this later)
8. Mexican food (see above)
7. Bananas
6. Tea (do you like tea? Well, I don't get it.)
5. Cream cheese (I felt this, of all the cheeses, deserved special mention)
4. Cheeseburgers (see #9)
3. Sushi - yup, even tuna rolls
2. Macaroni and cheese (this is the one I get the most comments on, and it would be #1, except most people don't have the imagination to expect the real #1, which is...)
1. Soup. I hate soup. Fuck you, soup.

Let the punches commence.

Listening to Elliott Smith makes you want to kill yourself...but in a good way.

The song is "Waltz #2" on X/O. It's amazing, and you should listen to it if you've never heard it before. In fact, whether you've heard it or not, you should listen to the whole album. Right now. Instead of reading this. Go do that. You'll thank me.

For the idiots who are still reading this, I'll refer you to the chorus of "Waltz #2":

I'm never gonna know you now,
But I'm gonna love you anyhow.

These lyrics are more than melancholy enough to fit perfectly into Smith's oeuvre - yeah, that's right, "oeuvre" - but for the longest time, as I wept softly and sang along, I was singing this instead:

You're never gonna know, you know,
But I'm gonna love you anyhow.

And what I wonder now is, divorced from any context within or without the song, which of those is the sadder state of affairs?

In my sprained heart, I think that the second one is the sadder of the two, although just barely, and this is why. In the first version, it feels like "you" could be anyone. It could be someone walking down the street who "I" is never going to see again, hence, "I'm never gonna know you now." But in the 2nd version, the "you" who is loved seems like someone who the "I" would be forced to see day in and day out, while lugging around all that unrequited baggage. But "you" is so amazing that "I" has no choice but to love "you." Think Tim and Dawn from The Office. And really, what's sadder than that?

So that's the debate that's been raging in my head for the last 6 months or so. I'm glad we cleared everything up. Seriously, though, listen to that album.

Blog City

So this is what Blog City is like. I figured the buildings would be taller. A gilded with crackles of electricity. Come on, Interweb. You can do better than this.