Saturday, June 21, 2008

I forgot something very important

I hate scrapbooking. I hate the industry surrounding it, fuck I hate that there even is an industry surrounding it. I hate that people can make their living opening up shitty craft stores that exclusively cater to the scrapbooking movement. In my approximation scrapbooking in the new quilting. Sure it's a more narrative way to assemble family memories in an artistic form, but a scrapbook don't keep you warm! Plus, do you really want your memories to be packaged in the same manner as every other mom/summer camper/student council member/cheerleader who bought the same set of stickers at the same aformentioned shitty craft store you did? Yeah because, that's really special.

I hate people who stand while on single-file escalators. I'm a pushy New York jerk. I've got places to go.

I hate premature nostalgia.
Okay, I get it, the rave is back because you all not-so-secretly miss your days of dwelling in K-Holes. Owning your past is fine. I can even deal with smiley faces and grunge. But I swear to god, if I see one of these worn ironically on Bedford Avenue I am going to cry:

Or even worse...

(p.s. While on my ill-conceived Google image search for "coed naked" I found this genius porn site The last photo of "Jenny Hendrix" is my favorite. Where the fuck were these guys when I was in college?)

Admittedly I do have fond memories of these being banned from my elementary school and a few of the classic camo sweatpants wearing baby dirtbags still wearing them. God, I love those kids, even though most of them ended up getting some chick named Crystal knocked up and are still in Nebraska. Some of them grew up to be my friends. You know the kids...essentially the late 80s/early 90s version of this:

Tim is my all-time favorite move kid ever and his friend Moko comes in a close second as the random half-Asian kung-fu loving sidekick. I'll spare you the quotes, as there have been many tributes to the awesomeness of this duo. But just about every future crustache sporting, Pantera tee owning, future scumfuck in my town looked just like them when I was in elementary school. Nunchucks and all.

I know every in the LES is rocking the Ione right now, but can you blame them? She was never much of an actress but she dated the coolest dudes and had the most effortless pre-grunge styling in this movie. Who needs 1994 when you've got 1986?

but I always thought that Tony was a seriously untapped style source.

So wait...wasn't I revisiting the forgotten entries on my shit list? And wasn't I bitching about hating premature nostalgia? Suddenly I find myself succumbing to it and all I want to do is download L7's Pretend that We're Dead and The Nymphs Revolt. Anybody remember that band? Their primary noteriety was from when Inger Lorre pissed on her A&R man's desk and from her rabid rivalry with Courtney Love. Ahh, the band that never was, the band that got fucked from every direction, be it rivalries, drugs, red tape, and major label low-prioritizing. I first heard them on the best mixtape ever my friend made me in 7th grade. She titled the mix "Foxxxcore" after Thurston Moore's dubbing of the alternative to Riot Grrl ragers and it featured Babes in Toyland, Seven Year Bitch, L7, and of course The Nymphs. I am sure Molly got that song off the bizarre awesome Pet Semetary 2 soundtrack.

At the time I couldn't find the album and gave up. This was before the days of the internet and it was possible for bands to seem unattainable, especially when they were major label yet not charted. It's funny how when I was younger it was easier to find a Third Sex record than one from the Nymphs.

For a pretty rad tribute article to Inger and the Nymphs check this out and if you want to hear Revolt and other Nymphs songs there are some posted on MySpace

Well, I don't know about you, but I enjoyed that trek. Todays post is obviously brought to you by my stream of consciousness. Apparently I can't focus about writing anything in particular today probably because I am at work instead of at the Mermaid Parade. Oh wait, we're back on track!

I hate a parade. I think it stems from a junior high era trauma where some dude overheard me giving my phone number to a friend at a parade and I ended up with an obscene phone caller. I was all of 13 and he was a major creep. I was a naive and didn't initially know where the phone calls were leading and being 13 I was also totally intrigued. But thank god it didn't turn into a To Catch a Predator situation. Ever since then I've been super wary about parades and large outdoor gatherings of people in general.

I've basically built a stoked list into this shit list. So to sum up that:

I am stoked on memories of foxcore.

I am stoked on sweatpants wearing pre-teen dirtbag style.

I am stoked on the River's Edge. Seriously, always have been, always will be. One summer in Nebraska I rented it from Blockbuster and for some reason it was a seven day rental and I seriously fell asleep watching it every night for an entire week. My roommates thought I was deranged.

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