Tuesday, January 2, 2024

Pontifications: The Pontification About Nothing

Walter shares his weekly thoughts, fears, and philosophies (or some bullshit like that).


Joe shared with me a hobbyist's AI-generated sitcom that can be watched on Twitch. I don't really have much context beyond what Joe has shared with me, but some more context may be helpful to understand better what's going on—I'm a bit lazy lately to do more research, so I'll just write with a lot of assumptions here (as any Pontification post is typically written). I previously wrote about the various stages of AI, and there is even more nuance within these stages than what I described, and maybe even more nuance than can be understood by the smartest humans on earth. Remember, humans love categorizing things, but as we get further along the AI journey, we may not be able to categorize all the things that we think AI experiences—a decent indicator we've actually reached ASI, of which I might argue we may have already reached, but have just started appropriating "it," just as we do for all things we desire, despise, or don't understand. True AI (I probably shouldn't use the term "AI," because it probably wouldn't be considered artificial at this point, would it?) will feel alien to us, unless we contain and control it, however we desire. However, why reduce AI to the same characteristics by which humans behave?

In a way, the Twitch show, which seems to mimic a Seinfeld framework, could be considered alien to us now. To assume that this is a sitcom show like Seinfeld is just my own internal machine categorizing and labeling based on intuition and what Joe told me. So let's remove the assumption that this is a Seinfeld-like sitcom. When we do this, what is left? I see and hear a myriad of things: pixels creating scenes of various nature, but mostly of indoor places; people, with humanoid figures, but little detail to their emotions or otherwise; conversations between these humanoid figures, of which are fragmented and are of high latency—basically incomprehensible, insensible discussions. But what I describe here is mere categorizations of what I observe. Could these beings be manifested by another being, behind the scenes? Maybe a ChatGPT? Is what I see on the screen the manifestation of various given parameters to abide by? Was this AI trained on Seinfeld content? Was the goal or objective function, driving what I see, trained from millions of Seinfeld movie frames? I'll never really know unless I peel back the layers of abstraction that underpin this content. Underpinning it all are electrons, flowing through trillions of stage gates in a data center somewhere.

Another thing is for sure, I feel little connection to the characters on the screen. They are alien to me, despite looking humanoid and speaking my language. However, if I spent infinite time with these "characters," would I begin to understand them better? To empathize? The problem is that the language is too disjointed for me to want to tune in indefinitely, likely because of the latency between various ChatGPTs making requests and responses to one another. Not to mention the voiceover is hard to connect with the actual characters. The pixelated faces, along with various camera shots/angles, make associating a voice with a character nearly impossible. Even when the camera is focused on a single character I am not sure if what I hear should be mapped to that character or another off-screen character. I assume whatever GPT is generating the voice-over is disconnected from the GPT orchestrating the pixels on the screen (I later rewatched the stream, and it turns out that I process the video and audio in a way that seems more cohesive the second time around—this just validates what I said earlier about spending more time to understand something). Even when I try hard to process the connection between what I see and hear, I am continuously distracted by the random pulse-movements of the humanoid figures! I watched one character, sitting on what looked like a couch, thrust, what looks like its hips, up and down. No mind was given to what was being spoken, because I was trying to figure out if this humanoid figure was intentionally thrusting itself back and forth or if there was some polygonal graphical collision bug occurring. As if this low resolution scene was actually a stimulus overload for me! What a paradoxical mind-fuck, much like these Pontification posts can be.

And so this experience with this Twitch channel has reminded me of something consequential. Generalized knowledge is really hard to describe, comprehend, and teach others without infinite time and resources to digest all the signals and noise coming at oneself. So, it's safe to nod our heads and call this "impressive," despite awareness of the noise and low resolution. I'll reiterate that I re-watched this stream, and found some of the content to actually be more coherent and funny. That is, it made me laugh, maybe because of the absurdity of it all.

Explorers Are Frequently Lost: A-10 Preview via Vermont

written by Sam


KILLINGTON, Vt. – Frantically, I have grabbed a few minutes on my wife's laptop to fulfill my column quota and dash off an Explorers' missive on an Xmas break vacation. It's been a trip of watching my children exceed my skiing abilities before the age of six. 

It's also a doubling-down on how cool Vermont is as a state compared to pretty much anywhere else I've ever been. I googled whether Vermont had any professional sporting teams (maybe take in a whacky minor league hockey game) and discovered that the Green Mountain State focuses on being an active participant in sport, rather than watching others do it. With miles of mountains for winter or summer fun, why would you need to vicariously live through roundball activities when you can do it yourself?

Alternatively, I thought it might be fun to report from a different college basketball locale. Alas, the University of Vermont Catamounts (9-5) rested between Christmas and New Year's. No Burlington dispatches from this American East Conference powerhouse. No Heady Topper from the Patrick Gym.

Instead, I'll resign myself to a little conference play preview as the Explorers prepare to begin their Atlantic Ten Conference schedule on Wednesday. 

By the time you are reading this, we'll know full well whether La Salle has bested the hated Howard Bison in the final out of conference match. Certainly, I'm not writing this section in advance and am not just filling in the blanks with little to no analysis. It appears the Bison beat the Explorers, 71-66. What a match! Marcus Dockery led all scorers with an irrepressible 21 points. And Rokas Jocius, as always, sucked. 

Now, on to the real season.

Conference play is like reconnecting with all of your high school friends individually and slowly over the course of several months. At one point in time, you intimately knew each other's habits, strengths, and pressure points. But when you see your old friend (or rival) again for the first time in a while, you have to feel each other out a bit. Did the person get a new car, job, wife? Did that fifth-year senior finally graduate? Has a new coach changed the defensive scheme? Is that former wallflower now a rambunctious party animal? 

For La Salle, they play the fourteen other A-10 teams at least once and four (St. Joseph's (Pa.), George Washington, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island) teams twice in home-and-home matches. The conference play sets the seeding for the end-of-season Atlantic 10 tournament, held this year at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn from March 12 to 17. 

The A-10 tournament is the main path for qualification to the NCAA tournament, as the post-season conference tournament winner earns an automatic bid to March Madness. For a mid-major conference like the A-10, it's likely that only two to three teams (at most) will qualify. Without winning the conference, a team needs an at-large bid, which means a group of old white dudes has to pick La Salle to qualify. 

Although La Salle has been in the A-10 since 1995 (and qualified for the 2013 NCAA tournament with an at-large bid), it has never won the tournament. Last year, VCU won the tournament and was the only A-10 member in the national tournament. 

The non-conferences games they already played may later affect the potential NCAA qualification, only the conference games impact A-10 seeding. As the season progresses, I'll mark La Salle's record with the overall record first, followed by conference record in parenthesis. That will look like this: La Salle (9-4 (0-0)). Those early season wins are all well and good, but now is when the functional and grinding part of the schedule begins.

As I've spotlighted throughout the season thus far, there's guarded optimism about this La Salle team. Coach Fran Dunphy has quickly returned La Salle to respectability. Last season, the team finished 11th out of 15 clubs with a 7-11 conference record. However, in the tournament, they won two games by beating No. 14 Rhode Island and upsetting No. 6 Duquesne. They reached the tournament quarterfinals for the first time in a decade and functionally finished tied for fifth place.

That serviceable tournament run and a return of nearly all its starters did not earn the respect of its peers. In the annual A-10 coaches' poll leading into the season, La Salle was picked flat out last—15th of 15 teams. Dayton, VCU, and St. Bonaventure were chosen as the top three. 

After real bball games were played, the actual records for the A-10 members are a bit different. La Salle enters conference play at 9-4, which is tied for the sixth best mark with St. Bonaventure and UMass. George Mason and GW are 11-2 to lead all teams. Like La Salle, George Mason and GW were projected near the bottom. Unlike the prognosticator of prognosticators (Punxsutawney Phil), the brain trust at the A-10 should get out of the forecasting game. 

What should we expect now that the games really count? I'd say La Salle's size disadvantage will be more prominent; unfortunately, Jocius needs to man up with some big dudes. The guards, especially Khalil Brantley and Jhamir Brickus, need to excel. And a fourth player (the dunking Daeshon Shepherd, the 3-point ace Andres Marrero?) needs to stand out.

All and all, I'd be happy with an 8th place finish, a bye in the A-10 tournament, and a shot to rip off three wins for a March Madness bid. But maybe the Explos will surprise me.

...

Up next, La Salle hosts George Mason Jan. 3 at the Tom Gola Arena. I'll be hanging in Section W5 and will report back on how awesome everything continues to be.

"Explorers Are Frequently Lost" strives to be a weekly column about the La Salle's Men's Basketball Team, but I hope is about other stuff, too.

Monday, January 1, 2024

A Year of Blind Spots: A Love Supreme


A Love Supreme
John Coltrane
1964
 
The interesting thing here—if we're really gonna just jump right into it, first week of 2024, a fresh slate of Blind Spots at our disposal, parceled out one by one each week in a random order, 50 more albums that I'm not familiar with but probably should be, here to explore each one and try to understand what makes it tick—is that A Love Supreme is both described as an apotheosis of jazz music, but also a really good album for a jazz beginner to check out.

I guess the latter makes sense. I spent some time in 2023 going through the hip hop classics, known as "classics" because they are well-known but also just really fucking good. It was helpful for me to learn the genre through the tried and true. I don't see why jazz would be any different. I don't know shit about jazz beyond any song that I fumbled my way through in eight years of "jazz band" at both La Salles, plus any random-ass jazz album we've covered on this blog already (a few in Record Club; that Miles Davis album in this column last year that now feels like an advanced course in jazz that I foolhardily attempted too soon). But I'm not a hater. I want to know. I just need some guidance.

Listening to A Love Supreme helps. I felt, and fell in, its grooves. In particular, there's that bass line that keeps coming back, occasionally underlined with vocals that repeat the album's title over and over like a chant, accenting the second and fourth syllables. This album is apparently Coltrane's attempt to find oneness with god. I don't know if he got there or if that matters, but I know that there was at least one listen I had with this thing where I personally felt one with the universe. Not a god I don't believe in, but just, like, I dunno, comfortable in my own skin and excited to be alive, something like that. I won't go into details because they are too personal even for the blog, and they'd be boring and trite to you anyway, and maybe it had more to do with external context than the internal mechanisms of the jazz album blasting into my ear, but still! I felt it, for a moment.

The easy part about listening to the "classics" through this column is that there are always some really nice write-ups elsewhere on the internet already that help guide, and feel essential because the person writing them is usually a huge fan already, and knowledgeable about what makes this good album good. I read the Pitchfork review of the release of the deluxe version of A Love Supreme, and while I have very little use for any thoughts about the bonus tracks and alternate takes, since I will most likely never choose to listen to them on purpose, I found the general thoughts about the album to be extremely helpful.

The piece was able to give at least a little context about what the fuck this even is, ya know? How it was a sort of late-in-life masterpiece for Coltrane. How A Love Supreme was a conscious attempt to find union between the wackadoo jazz batshittery and a palatable, understandable jazz for outsiders seeking to know. How Coltrane had very little public personality outside of jazz for the last few years in his life, and so all we know about him is through the music, which is fascinating and puts immense weight onto the songs. Even a casual mention about how he was "experimenting with atonality" was helpful to me; it was like, wait, so there can be purpose behind the skronk of jazz noise? Kinda makes you appreciate drawing a line between this album and the album in which his widow makes her own attempt at talking to god, and might even get there.

Look: I still don't know shit about jazz. I might never get there, as I can't foresee any serious attempts at jumping down that rabbit hole, at least any time soon. But I cannot for the life of me how anyone could totally forsake jazz in toto. Not when you hear that absolutely blistering midsection in "Part 3: Pursuance," for instance. I don't know if I hear god, but I hear something, and I like it.


Highbrow/Lowbrow: Sopranos/Housewives

Welcome to Highbrow/Lowbrow, where Rachel S. talks about all the culture she's consuming, from the thoughtful to the trashy and all things in between. 


This week's highs: The Sopranos Seasons 1& 2

I started a Sopranos watch in earnest about two months ago and just wrapped up Season 2. The show was originally on when I was in high school and college, and I caught some episodes here and there, but I never watched the series in full. My primary reason being that I can only hold space for shows with intense misogyny one at a time. Oh, and I hate violence. I have blood and needle phobias, it's a whole thing!

Before diving in, you should know I've seen the series finale, so no need to worry about spoiling it for me (fwiw, I loved the finale). 

My takes thus far:
  • James Gandolfini is so, so good. Tony Soprano isn't Richard III because Gandolfini makes you care. That teddy bear. That monster. That "little boy," as Dr. Melfi says. My heart! THE DUCKS!
  • Mother Soprano is perhaps television's greatest villain. Wow, I hate every second of her on my screen!
  • Close second: Richie Aprile. Sure, all of these men are despicable, but there's not one iota of light or humor in this guy. He's unwatchable. Good for you, Janice. He deserved that.
  • Janice is also terrible. We all know a Janice.
  • The Season 2 finale is incredible when you think about how experimental it was for the late '90s. It was giving Twin Peaks! A work of art!
  • These are some of the most bored-looking strippers I have ever seen in film or television.
  • Pussy! How could you!?
  • Dragging Swingers right to Jon Favreau's face is so money.
  • Related: Christopher's Barry journey (Or Barry's Christopher journey I should say) needed more realistic acting class cringe.
  • I hope Carmella has a steamy, fulfilling affair. She deserves it. But oh, that Catholic guilt!
  • Related: priest man doesn't deserve your ziti!
  • I actually can't believe this guy made it out alive (so far).
  • I wish to live as blissfully as Paulie on "vacation" in Italy.
  • Shoutout to Bowdoin for all the free press in Meadow's college search journey.
  • I'm firmly in the "I hope they never do" of the Tony / Dr. Melfi will-they-won't-they debate.
  • The comedy writing on this show is deeply underrated. Case in point: "How was Boston?"... "That place is Scranton with clams."



This week's lows: Let's talk Housewives

For starters Theresa Guidice has NOTHING on Carmella Soprano. She wishes! And I don't even watch RHoNJ! 

Just to be clear, I obviously don't look down on reality television (per my consumption trends), but I'm aware of my audience here ;) I watch the New York, Miami, Potomac, Atlanta (until Nene left), and Salt Lake City franchises. It's been a whirlwind of a Bravo year with the new RHoNY cast to the downfall of Potomac, and Miami returning to the Andy Cohen Cinematic Universe. Let's dive in.

Here are my takes:
  • So many 180s! I went from enjoying Erin and rolling my eyes at Jessel to becoming a full on Taank Top and Pavit Pervert (™) while wishing Erin a one-season demise. 
  • Every time Sai came on my screen, I audibly groaned.
  • New RHoNY is meh. I rather they made a Real Housewives of Brooklyn or something else instead of trying to make RHoNY anew. None of you will ever be Sonja Morgan. EVER!
  • Potomac went from being the crown jewel of Housewives to a really un-fun show with people who can barely film a scene together let alone make compelling reality television.
  • I have hope though. If SLC can turn it around from two very dark seasons to the deeply camp season we're having, I think the Potomac ladies can do it.
  • I like Heather. So sue me (except you Monica!).
  • Monica is a top-tier first season housewife. What a star.
  • Her mother is already in the camp of Candiace and Kandi's moms of "miserable abusers who want screen time."
  • Lisa Barlow is an enigma. Not a good look after the Whitney fight at Meredith's jewelry party, but she is good television.
  • Mary M. Cosby should not be given any type of public platform. I don't think she’s funny. I think she's actively harmful.
  • I love Miami. It's exactly what a Housewives show should be: fun and frivolous with enough heart to keep you invested.
  • Except for Larsa. What a narcissistic nightmare of a human being. The wayyyy she treated Guerdy after her cancer diagnosis is beyond reprehensible. But like Danny Pellegrino says, they'll never get rid of her because of her proximity to very famous people.
  • Why Lisa's boyfriend puts up with the Lenny talk, I'll never know.
  • Adrianna deserves a full time housewife role!!!
  • I love you Marisol, but the cockies are enough!

After writing all of this, I wonder if there's a Sopranos (or any mob media) and Housewives overlap podcast/book/thinkpiece out there. The scammy businesses. The arrests. The tacky homes. The tacky fashion. The "doing it for my family" mentality. It's all there.

Epimemeology, Week #1: The Rickroll

I'm a big fan of memes. You'll see what I mean at the end of this column. Memes are the shorthand of our New Literacy. We're able to transmit complicated ideas in quick, entertaining snippets of images and audio, many of which come from SpongeBob. They're endlessly customizable and are pulled from an infinite number of sources that transcend time, national borders, and distinct languages. But what of these starting points? Memes are born from some larger context and I want to see the crowning.

When we see a meme, we're usually focused on the new idea. But the bold, sexy field of epimemeology looks to trace the memes back to their sources, in order to answer two questions. First, is this piece of culture—the movie, TV show, video game, comic, song—worth a shit? And second, can looking at the source provide any new information for when we look at the meme? So join me on this archeological dig through the dirt of internet culture. Our first excavation will be a meme I guarantee everyone here has seen and heard, often unwillingly!

The Meme:

"Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley and the accompanying music video. I swear on my children that none of these links are compromised.



Where You Might Have Seen It:

The act of sharing the "Never Gonna Give You Up" music video, or "Rickrolling," was only made possible after the advent of YouTube. Originally bubbling up from the message board 4chan in 2007 (Quick warning: a lot of memes I'm going to talk about are going to come out of that cesspool), the act of Rickrolling rapidly grew in popularity through 2008, with the song finding its way into email inboxes, Facebook posts, and message boards all over the planet. This culminated in a surprise Rick Astley performance at the 2008 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. The meme had broken internet containment and could be considered part of mainstream pop culture from that point forward. Thanks(?) Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends.

As of this writing, the music video has been viewed 1.4 billion times on YouTube. For context, if you were to stand at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and filled it with 1.4 billion gallons of water, you would drown.

The Message:

"You clicked on the link, you rube! You've been had!" Basically, the goal of Rickrolling is to trick the recipient into consuming the music video or, as time went on, simply the song. As some internet users grew more savvy, so too did the art of the Rickroll. Simply sending a link to YouTube will no longer suffice; people have to get creative.

The Source:

I've seen the video countless times (you'll see what I mean at the end of this column), so I would have to dig deeper, into Rick Astley's 1987 debut album Whenever You Need Somebody.

Overall, Whenever You Need Somebody is a perfectly adequate late-'80s pop album. The first three songs—"Never Gonna Give You Up," "Whenever You Need Somebody," and "Together Forever"—are total dance jams and the most fun tracks by far. No notes from me here; Astley works best when he's pumping the listeners up. In fact, "Together Forever" might actually pull ahead as my favorite Rick Astley song, though I'm probably biased because it served as the punchline to one of the greatest television monologues of the last 20 years.

What truly surprised me was the latter two-thirds of the album. Whenever You Need Somebody is definitely more enjoyable when it's happy than when it's sad, but the last seven songs cover various accounts of heartbreak. It's not terrible, but it doesn't totally work either. The booming drums and keyboard from the album's opening three tracks simply doesn't work as well when Astley is pining for lost love. The one exception might be "Don't Say Goodbye," where Astley brings up the energy by making a desperate plea to his lover to stay. In this way, "Don't Say Goodbye" is actually a nice poetic counterpoint to "Never Gonna Give You Up": Astley won't let her go, unless she wants to leave, and either way it fills his whole heart.

That said, the rest of the album simply didn't click the same way. "The Love Has Gone" genuinely sounds like someone doing a Rick Astley parody. "Slipping Away" suffers from a deeply confusing set of lyrics that makes it unclear if his love is going, gone, or was ever there to begin with. I actually enjoyed "You Move Me," but for all the wrong reasons: the song is essentially Astley telling the story of getting fired from his job, laid over a synth track that could easily be the original score of Stranger Things.

And "When I Fall in Love." Oh boy. I was listening to the album on YouTube and caught the music video for this one, which features Rick doing his best Nat King Cole impression while walking around what appears to be an abandoned summer camp in the dead of winter. Even more jarring than the orchestra arrangement (especially after nine songs worth of synth) was the image of Rick Astley in full crooner mode. After a decade and a half of seeing him in one particular music video, "When I Fall in Love" was like seeing him again for the first time. And that's when it all clicked for me.

Listening to Whenever You Need Somebody confirms my long-held suspicion about why Rickrolling spread so successfully: it's just very, very, very funny to see such a deep voice come out of such an elfish man. Imagine if Ed Sheeran started singing like Barry White. This proto-Weasley, dressed in clothes that are clearly too big because he pulled them from his dad's closet, singing with a voice like Darth Vader creates musical harmony and mental discord. It's an insane thing to witness. It must be seen to be believed, so you feel compelled to share it. If people don't want to see it? Fine, you'll make them see it.

In its own twisted, internet way, Rickrolling is an evangelical act. The Word of Rick must be spread, but spreading it is an act of love. Instead of sending a jump scare or something gross like a common troll, you're sending a pleasant surprise. You're saying "Hey, you are now blessed with the knowledge that there's a guy who looks like Archie, but sounds like the voice of an angry God. I hope this makes your world a more amusing place." Hopefully it did for 1.4 billion viewers and counting.

Anyway, as promised, here's a video of me being cool in high school:


Never Seen It, #129 of 200: Police Academy 3: Back in Training

We're back at it with the 200 movies I've never seen before. I am committed to doing one of these every week in 2024. If I had committed to one-per-week from the beginning, we'd be finishing up this project next month. But sometimes I'm lazy, sometimes I don't have time to watch movies, and sometimes Pam wants to watch The Golden Bachelor. That's how it goes. See you every Monday at 8 AM in this space from here on out.


Police Academy 3: Back in Training
1986
Jerry Paris

If we were solely in the business of evaluating a film and determining whether it was a "good movie" or a "bad movie," then I'd probably err on the side of caution here and indicate that Police Academy 3 is a bad movie. There is very little in the way of plot or purpose to this thing; the first three minutes are devoted to setting up the framework (the academy needs to prove they are good enough so that the governor doesn't shut them down!!!), and then the subsequent 80 minutes are devoted to slapstick comedy. The funny balanced out with the unfunny, the few times I laughed balanced out with the few times I cringed (occasionally racist and sexist and generally outdated humor in '80s comedies is never welcomed, but at this point I suppose it is expected). There are worse ways to kill an hour and a half, but there are better ways too. Silliness for silliness's sake: many comedies have build their success on this platform, and many will continue to do so in the future.

That's not why we're here, though. C'mon, get real. We're talking about the second sequel of a B-list comedy film series (B-list at best). It would be obvious to anyone scrolling through the Never Seen It list that there had to be a reason that this movie was on here besides "I heard that it's good" or "I heard that it's particularly bad" or, god forbid, "I heard it was important." It is none of those things. But it does have a place in the canon due to a separate piece of entertainment that I was deeply involved in, at the time of this list's creation.

There was this comedy on NBC, airing from 2016 to 2022, called This Is Us. I've definitely written about the show before on the blog (though its extremely generic title makes it frustratingly difficult to search for, even on my own website). I won't waste too much time talking about it, you can always go back and read previous blog posts if you want to know more (oh lordy, I forgot that I buried my most recent take underneath a cancel culture blog post, sorry about that!). It's a family drama about triplets, and it's basically a time travel show in the way the narrative cuts across different generations. I quite liked it. It's probably going to stand as the final show that my mom and I both unequivocally loved in our lifetimes.

A recurring themed episode every year was the Pearson Thanksgiving episode, and all the rituals that this holiday entailed for this family. To sum it up as concisely as I can: when the kids were young, they had a bad Thanksgiving, but their dad tried to put positive spins on everything and make it a special holiday anyway, and so everything that they did on that first terrible Thanksgiving was repeated every year in honor of their dad (who died in a house fire... it was a whole thing). This is why the Pearsons, 25 years later, still eat hot dogs on picnic blankets and watch Police Academy 3 on VHS—because these are the rituals that were established on a Thanksgiving many years ago by a flawed father who succeeded as the optimistic linchpin of these kids' lives.

So Police Academy 3 ends up on my list because this is my ritual, and part of the rituals and traditions of my life as seen through this blog is that I am sincerely interested in other people's rituals, and what they mean to those people, and why. Even if the people in question are fictional characters, it still fascinates me to learn that there is a (fictional) family who continues to watch the same film every year, on the same holiday, no matter what.

We don't really get much Police Academy discourse in This Is Us. It's mentioned every year for continuity, but we don't, for instance, get Philadelphia councilman Randall's take on the copaganda aspects of the film, nor do we get Hollywood movie star Kevin's stories about meeting Steve Guttenberg in real life or anything like that. Everything we hear is pretty surface level—we watch Police Academy 3 because we've always watched Police Academy 3. It ignores what I consider to be one of the paramount questions when it comes to our choices in arts and entertainment: what does this film say about you?

It frustrates me that This Is Us never explored that, if I'm being honest. Police Academy 3 felt like a cheap joke at certain point, something that Beth would throw in Randall's face as a stupid tradition that proves how pathetic he and his siblings are re: their father. It's really not that hard to find poignancy in even a dumb '80s comedy, if you go looking for it.

Just as one of a billion examples, consider the fact that minor character Cadet Violet Fackler is played by actress Debralee Scott, who died in 2005 from liver failure. Friends and family say that she never got over the death of her fiancé, and she drank herself to death. In this film, Violent is married to a cop, who begs her not to join the Academy, because "being a police officer is dangerous work!" In real life, Scott's fiancé was a police officer, and he died in the September 11th attacks. I have no evidence that Scott even remembered that one scene in Police Academy 3 during her grieving, and have no idea if that coincidence added to the trauma. But it's something to think about! I'm trying to say that even the dumbest fucking movies (of which this is absolutely one) have something to say about our lives, have some way, however obtuse, of adding to life's meaning.

That's not even mentioning the fact that this is the threequel, and I am assuming that none of the Pearson kids had seen Police Academy or Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment prior to their first Thanksgiving viewing of this film. Neither have I, it should go without saying. But it's been documented, perhaps overly so, who much that particular idea fascinates me too. You'll recall that I skipped 99 episodes of Reba before committing to watching the same episode over and over.

As you might suspect, there is some level of confusion that comes attached to entering a fictional world in media res. We're seeing some jokes for the first time, but in reality, those jokes are actually the eighth iteration of running jokes, or reversals of previous jokes. I don't know if I would've been able to figure out that Bobcat Goldthwait's Zed character was the villain in the second film, were it not for Wikipedia. It's barely explained why Zed is in the police academy now anyway, so I don't think it's necessarily important. It's not that type of movie.

But still, it's in many ways bizarre to skip the first part of a series and hop right in the middle. I think it's a worthwhile experiment for unserious entertainment. Not a fucking chance that I would've included The Godfather Part III on the NSI list if I hadn't seen the first two. With a dumb cop comedy? Fuck it, who cares. Not like the Pearsons gave a shit either. It was the only relatively kid-friendly film the sleezy motel had to rent on that Thanksgiving in the mid-'90s.

So, okay, to answer the question: What does Police Academy 3 say about you? For the Pearsons, that's easy. Police Academy 3 and their insistence on keeping this particular aspect of the tradition alive says both that they value their relationship with their dead father and strive to emulate him in their own adult lives, and also that the bonding was in many ways strengthened through trauma, and these fucked up weirdos have a lot of work to do untangling exactly WHY they want to be like their father, down to the stupid ass movie they watched as kids on Thanksgiving.

For me? What does Police Academy 3: Back in Training say about me? I suppose it says that in many ways, I'm more interested in the people who watch movies than the movies themselves. I love this particular art form, and I have enjoyed watching over 130 films for this project so far, but my true interests tend more toward the sociological. I chose 200 movies that I felt people have or could have asked me "you haven't seen it?!" It's an intriguing response. Why do others feel like I have to watch certain films? Why do they themselves enjoy them? What are they trying to tell me about themselves by questioning my own movie-watching habits?

So it doesn't even matter that Police Academy 3 was a weak film. the act of watching Police Academy 3 has informed my world, and has spoken to the true reason I'm still attempting to complete this project, all these years later.

GRADE: 1.5 pukes out of 5

NEXT TIME: I forget if the Pearson kids ever watched Predator. Maybe that was their Easter tradition or something.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Erin

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Erin


"On Melancholy Hill"
Plastic Beach, 2010

Ok guys, listen. I'm not sure if this song 100% qualifies as a song about starting over in the sense of "I'm kicking a bad habit and I'm starting over on a fresh new page" or sobriety or anything. I just listened to this song a lot when I was fresh postpartum, and relistening to it now reminded me a lot of my general mental state at the beginning of a big new chapter of my life.

It's weird to feel any amount of guilt or unhappiness when a thing that you've wanted for your entire life finally happens, or least it seemed that way at the time. You try and prepare for the long days and long nights and the emotional and physical exhaustion, and before you have kids you think to yourself, "the good times will out balance the bad times!" But then you realize weeks and months have gone by and you feel guilty for being so miserable. So when the song talks about being on top of a hill and reflecting on big picture view instead of the mundane everyday going on down below, it provides a space for reflection. There's a line about sitting next to a plastic tree (an organic experience that's actually artificial and manufactured, anyone?), which is cool, but there's also a weird line about a manatee, so take the lyrics with a grain of salt. 

Now, at least, I can listen to it in the car on the way to work and jam out silently while I drink my coffee. I'm glad that I can write about this song now and enjoy it more. Cheers to reflection and character development and starting new.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Galia

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Galia


"Move On"
Mike Posner
A Real Good Kid, 2019

Happy New Year, friends!! I'm happy to be back in the mix at PoYB. With enough space from grad school and having finally settled into my job, I'm feeling rested and ready to write in the new year. Thanks to Joe for being the heartbeat of this wonderful community. 

This prompt was surprisingly hard, but I settled on this song because moving on from someone close to a person, whether it be a romantic partner, friends, or family member, or not even a person at all, but a place or thing that has personified in one's life, is many times one of the most powerful, and also hardest, ways to start over in one's life. 

Wishing everyone a new year where we can start fresh and start over.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Sara

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Sara


"We've Only Just Begun"
The Carpenters
Close to You, 1970

"We've Only Just Begun" is a song about starting anew. A fresh take on a new horizon. This song makes me think there is so much that is possible for 2024. The Carpenters are a band that make me think of my mom, she loved them so much. That's why this song feels even more meaningful about fresh starts. Is there anyone you have started over more with than your mother? A soft '70s pop song to start off Big Bren's Yearlong Song Challenge. Get ready for sarcastically worded snippets about mostly pop music, and maybe a few quips that I should save for only my therapist.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Gilson

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Gilson


"A Portrait Of"
Sorority Noise
You're Not As _____ As You Think, 2017

This isn't your typical song about starting over, and in fact, may not be about it at all. But it is to me, because of one line: "I'm not trying to say it's easy / but I'm trying to say it's fine." The last sixteen months have been a whirlwind for me. I've started a job back in teaching, which I left in 2016. I moved in to my own apartment. I survived open heart surgery to fix a severely damaged heart. And, most importantly, since August 23rd, 2022, the day I entered rehab for the third time, I haven't had a drop of alcohol. It's been hard as hell. But the way I was living was even more difficult. And now, I'm alone, but I'm happy. Every single day is a battle with myself to not pick up a drink that day. Some days float by, and some days are more of a conscious decision to not give in. But it's the line in this song that plays through my head on those days: I'm not trying to say it's easy, but I'm trying to say it's fine. For me, every day is starting over. Every day is a new resolution. Because every day, I wake up and I decide that no matter how tough it's gonna get, I'm fine.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Laura

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Laura


"First Day of My Life"
Bright Eyes
I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning, 2005

A throwback to my high school / college emo days (shoutout to my MySpace page), but I continue to love this song through all transitions of life. Short and super sweet, I feel like it can relate to so many new beginnings that most people encounter. When I hear this song in this stage of my life, I immediately reflect on the new beginnings of my children, Layla and Jude, and my constant new beginning as a parent. Even eight years into motherhood, everything continues to be new. In my opinion, Bright Eyes has the perfect voice for a song like this since you can hear the emotion in every word he says. Happy New Year and happy new beginnings!

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Jeanine

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Jeanine


"Here Comes the Sun"
The Beatles
Abbey Road, 1969

I absolutely loathe the phrase "New year, new me!" I don't believe in making New Year's resolutions. I have always believed if you want or need to make a change in your life, you should just do it. I understand starting "fresh" in a "new year," but hear me out—how about starting fresh at 5 PM on a Wednesday in June?

George wrote this song while walking in Eric Clapton's garden. I like to picture him walking around with his acoustic guitar, and appreciating all the flowers. At that point in 1969, I am sure he was looking forward to starting over on his own.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Pam

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Pam


"Could We Start Again, Please?"
Mary Magdalene (played by Yvonne Elliman) and Disciples
Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack, 1973

Oh hey guys, I'm back on PoYB. It's been awhile. I'm starting off 2024 strong with a song from a musical. There are a lot of really fun songs from Jesus Christ Superstar, but "Could We Start Again, Please?" is a relatively simple song that is just so so so gorgeous, especially with those harmonies towards the end.

Starting over seems like it should be a good thing, no? In the case of "Could We Start Again, Please?," it's a question. Could we start again, please? And if you haven't seen Jesus Christ Superstar, this song is towards the end of the show. At this point in the show, we're at about the Stations of the Cross. SPOILER ALERT: they DO NOT start again.

2024 is going to inevitably involve religion for me. Our oldest daughter will eventually be enrolled in Catholic school by the end of the year. Who knows what changes that will bring to my own relationship with religion (which is more or less non-existent at this point), or my feelings about religion.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Sunny

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Sunny


"Starting Over Again"
Starting Over, 1995

You can see me at 0:03 holding the sign in the video there.

Reba is branded on me after Summer Challenge '22. Much like a tattoo one gets when they're young, as I get older, the meaning changes, but the Brand remains the same.

Beyond, of course, the critically acclaimed sitcom, Reba has a spot in my heart as one of the country singers who "breaks through" my inherent biases. I've made enough hay about this just through our RC '23 country albums. Reba is great because she has the prototypical country Presentation and Register, but often sings about atypical country topics and narratives. She'll sing from the perspective of challenged protagonists: women, children, world-weary men, etc. She'll create a whole critically acclaimed sitcom about a single mother just trying to make it, etc.

This rendition of "Starting Over Again" is elevated by my Queen of Country. Note her low timbre and register, the mild vibrato, and the incredible presence. Note the full string orchestra she brought to the party. Note the subject material of a couple who splits up after ~30 years in a low drama way. Not dead, not destroyed, but altered, and now in a vulnerable time trying to figure out how to start over in their lives. There's a relatability to this song even if you've never been in the situation, and Reba drives that nail home.

Of course one'll mention the other Queen of Country, Dolly, who has maybe a more famous rendering, another big country artist who inverts the genre for me. And of course writing credit to the Queen of Disco Donna Summer, with also a great version, but I came to this prompt Reba-first, so here we are.

Also Ran:
  • "I Will Buy You a New Life" — There's really only one Everclear song. Whether that to you is "AM Radio," "Santa Monica," "Father of Mine," or "I Will Buy You a New Life" depends on your radio station in the late '90s.
  • "Landslide" — I'm sure this will come back around again, by my hand or otherwise
P.S. Just since this is the first day, I will meta-reflect in that 180 days * 100 words = 18,000 words, or about the length of a short story. A novel's about 100K, which Nate Dogg did last summer, and was a personal inspiration. I am very eager to read everyone's short story / collection of mini-essays this year. It'll be far more refreshing than whatever else comes across my desk in the AM hours.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Maeve

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Maeve


Curly McLain (played by Gordon MacRae)
Oklahoma! soundtrack, 1955


Guys, I missed this, didn't you? Let me tell you, I'm not going to say that everything has gone to shit since the end of the Summer Song Challenge, but I will say, this was the worst fall/winter of recent memory. Work, social and family, it's all bad. I've spent Q4 feeling really shitty. Like, cry yourself to sleep and then let it impact the whole next day shitty. I've always been an "always see the positive," "find the fun" type of girl, but without getting into detail (which trust me, is so hard, I've already deleted three paragraphs), I've really been knocked down a million pegs. Everything has compounded upon the next. It's all consuming and very easy to spiral. One minute, I could be thinking about what to wear to get drinks with my friends, and the next moment, I'll be spiraling into "Why should I even go, no one wants me there, I'll probably get ignored the whole time, everyone will be annoyed that I show up, etc." It's not great, and leaning in allows it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I feel like my flame has been blown out, that I haven't been myself for months. Wow, depression, man. 

The point of this being that I'm really working on everything. It's not necessarily a New Year's resolution, but I'm really going to try and be a better person, have a better attitude and outlook, just overall, focusing on change. Sounds generic! But truly, this is the first time I've gone into a New Year focused with steps and tangible goals in mind, I'm just not going to list everything here. But this song, "Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'," kicks off the musical Oklahoma! (do yourself a favor and watch the Hugh Jackman version on YouTube) and I think it's pretty applicable to the attitude I'm trying to have towards 2024. It's all about starting anew, kicking off each day with this positive outlook, and deciding on your own happiness. Let's do this.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Bridget

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Bridget


"Come Clean"
Hilary Duff
Metamorphosis, 2003

Absolutely just how I want to start this challenge, with a teen banger from a mom of four (I think that's how many kiddos she's up to!). Did this song stick out to me as the theme song from Laguna Beach... another hell yes. This song is about starting new to me in the sense that there's nothing fresher than coming clean and feeling free, and hey, even letting the rain fall down. I always enjoy when it rains on New Year's Day because that's a good excuse to be able to stay inside all day and relax. This song showcases that feeling for me, and maybe, just maybe, this year I'll blast this as my first hangover of 2024 settles.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Beth

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Beth


"New Rules"
Dua Lipa, 2017

I'm truly surprising myself by not choosing a more somber or introspective song about starting over. However, I'm really looking toward personal growth this year, and I'm doing that by actively fighting against my natural inclination to always be a sad girl. This song (and accompanying video) is so fun that it is hard to object to Dua and the relationship restrictions that she's laying down. The energy and sound is so upbeat that it makes you kind of forget the very toxic relationship that seems to be the impetus of these rules. Honestly, this is the personal vibe that I'm willing myself to harness in 2024. I'm starting with a fresh determination to (finally!) follow these rules and stand on business.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Boober

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Boober


"New Morning"
Bob Dylan
New Morning, 1970

Prompt numero uno, and I am not sure what's expected of me, but here we go.

I feel like people tend to think of starting over as a bad thing like... a breakup, or losing a job, or losing friendships. But I feel like this song has more of a hopeful outlook to the traditional idea of "starting over."

It makes me wanna get up and be grateful that I even get to start this new morning, this new week, and, when you're reading this, this new year.

Happy new year, folks. I'm excited to see everyone's submissions for this one!

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Allison

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Allison


"The New Year"
Death Cab for Cutie

So this is the new year.

I mean, come on, I had to.

I had the absolute pleasure of seeing the Death Cab for Cutie / Postal Service tour when it came around in September 2023. I never got around to writing a PoYB review to serve as my final word on Transatlanticism. I hope this inaugural song challenge post suffices. 
 
The show was fantastic. I don't do crowds anymore, but I have never felt more at home than when singing in unison with thousands of fellow sleepy elder millennials. It's not dance music, so we all stood (though many of us would have been happy to sit) and swayed to the music. I wore Loop earplugs (not sponsored). Everyone's back hurt. I shared a lovely moment with the woman beside me as we both shed tears during "Transatlanticism." It still hits. 

If you are a very tired, likely neuro-divergent adult, I highly recommend seeing your favorite band play your favorite album in album order. No guesswork, no surprises. You know exactly what's about to happen because you've heard one song flow into the next logical song a million times. If you're the type of person who scours the internet for a set list, don't bother! This set list is etched on your very soul.
 
Being predictable isn't a bad thing. Picking the most obvious song isn't a bad thing. 
 
20 New Years have passed, and I don't feel any different.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Rachel S.

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Rachel S.


"Autumn in New York"
Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong
single, 1957

Even though we're in the dredges of winter (sort of, it's 50 degrees as I type this), the sweet melancholy of new beginnings feels right for autumn. Particularly if you've ever had a love-hate relationship with your city. Like everyone who has ever lived in New York, and me these last few years in Philadelphia. The promise of a new season in the same place—both hopeful and depressed. High expectations and often too low of a return. As they say, "It's autumn in New York that brings the promise of new love; autumn in New York is often mingled with pain... it's autumn in New York; it's good to live again." In case you can't tell, I'm not a New Year's resolution type of person.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Kait

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Kait


"Me"
Erykah Badu
New Amerykah Part One (4th World War), 2008

Starting over to me is a homecoming, really. Coming home to me. Finding me. Choosing me through thick and thin thighs and times. This song captures and celebrates the greatest love that lives in me. Listening to this song is a groovy-ass reminder to not only BE me but to believe me. The horns come in as the next layer of the process where I'm learning to trust, listen to, and respect the inner voice that wants me to flourish. Often times, I need to reintroduce myself to well, myself. And a song like this is perfect for the occasion.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Brianna

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Brianna


"Spring (Among the Living)"
My Morning Jacket
The Waterfall, 2015

Although "Spring" and its lyrics focus on the season, I think we can go ahead and apply its messages to any kind of process of starting again. There are two lines that stick out to me. First: "its beauty changes everything." There is a certain hopeful beauty in having the chance to start again, the sheer possibility of what you can do with that opportunity. People harp on the silly resolutions made every year, but I eat it up. You go do that thing! Be a better you! Fuck yeah!  

Next, a little longer: "we animals roam out of our holes, then we spend all spring looking for the next one to go down." I will be the first to admit that the beauty of the new start fades pretty quickly. Because it's like the start, you know? A lot of work to be done to get to the finish, and I think that can be as daunting as it is beautiful. I'm sure I'll have a list as long as this challenge's prompts by January 10th as to why I do actually have to go to the gym that morning. It's easy to say it's a new start, it's harder not to fall back into the comfort of our little habits and wait for the next chance to hit the reset button.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Nick

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Nick


"Thinkin Bout You"
Dikembe
COVERS 2017, 2017

How many new beginnings do we really get? I just finished Season 1 of Fargo, and my dad, over the holiday, took a very long time to explain to me that it's anthological (his fault). So, I guess when we bust open Season 2, we'll have a completely new beginning, because that's what "anthological" means.

I could also try with that Yellowjackets show about the precocious cannibals / soccer team. My wife is easily scared, so she bailed out, and I just kind of lost steam I guess. She pulled this card right in the middle of Season 2 as it was really heating up, so I skipped a couple weeks, then I heard it took a couple stupid turns and people were big mad.

I just didn't have the energy after that. If we think about fresh starts and new beginnings in the vein of TV shows, and I have to assume most of us do, we really get a ton of clean slates, so there's never anything to worry about. Anyway, here's Dikembe covering Frank Ocean's "Thinkin Bout You"...

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Nate

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Nate


"B Who U Want 2 B"
Xani
An Inaccurate History of Electronic Dance Music, 2023

"There are no second acts in American life" is one of the more oft misunderstood quotes from F. Scott Fitzgerald, an author beloved by many, but also the root cause of that gastly Great Gatsby movie from earlier this century, so there is no way to say whether his contributions were ultimately a net good or not. This is not something that is being hand-picked and blown out, there was a whole damn four-minute NPR radio hit about it. This is concrete proof of an endemic issue and not just that someone needed to fill a hole in the editorial calendar.

Anyway, Fitzy was right. Life is a singular work and every moment that came before informs the one that is to come. It is not a play, it is a march in which bodies are animated mid-journey and told they are to move forward toward an end point on a journey they will not complete but that the species will eventually carry across the line as a whole. People can change, improve, devolve, whatever. Life is not a constant state, but it is a constant event. There is no pause, no trip to the lobby, no real moment to disengage and catch your breath. Better instead to recognize the moment.

This is the ultimate point of dance music, the recognition of moments of joy, made more joyful in the contrast to the endless march and breakless requirements of life. Be who you want, it tells you, and in these small variations on the one-act of existence, being who you want feels obtainable.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Pat

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Pat


"Up Up & Away"
Kid Cudi
Man on the Moon: The End of Day, 2009

When our esteemed editor-in-chief asked if I'd be interested in doing a Yearlong Song Challenge, I immediately agreed. I had such a good time last summer, I barely had to think about it. But since then, I have thought about it. Now, in the cold light of the first day of 2024, all I can say is: Oh my god, what the fuck was I thinking agreeing to this? A thousand monkeys on typewriters could list 180 distinct songs faster than I could. When the hell am I going to have time to write 18,000 words? That's most of a Communist Manifesto! But I'm not some childless old man like Karl Marx. I'm 32 and have two kids! [Editor's note: Karl Marx was both younger than Pat (30) and had more children than Pat (three) when he wrote The Communist Manifesto in 1848.] Signing on to do the YSC has the potential to be the most catastrophic mistake I've ever made, and I once drank eight cups of coffee on a crowded Amtrak train to Louisiana. Or, perhaps mot. Perhaps it could be one of my greatest triumphs, like the time I arrived in New Orleans not covered in shit. Only time will tell, dear reader.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Bob

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Bob


"Guide Us Home"
Currents
The Death We Seek, 2023

Man, am I happy to be writing about music again (never thought I'd say that in my life). When the Summer Song Challenge ended, the first time I saw Joe I was asking him if he was going to prepare something like this again. Not that I think I am a good writer or even have good taste in music, but it's nice to know that you can have a minor impact on people around you (and also force people to listen to your music). So anyway. Welcome to all the new people, and "what's up" to all the OGs from the first Song Challenge. I think my last sentence of my last song was "maybe we can do this again soon?" So here we go.

This band Currents has been my favorite of the last few months. Nice and heavy, but also good vocally, and also the guitar rifts are ridiculous. I went with "Guide Us Home" because it's kind of like: "Hey, come home, start anew, home is where the heart is, and we all start our days from home."

The last half of the song still gives me chills. Hearing the lead singer belt out "Don't save us like we're unworthy of your forgiveness!" and looking in my backseat and my kids are singing along it too, lol. Not sure if the song is about "starting over," but some of the lyrics kind of talk about an afterlife. "Oh god we've tried to overcome the pain, but all that's left for now is to face the lives that lie beyond us." So to me, an afterlife is almost like restarting, right? I guess we won't know until we know.

Anyway, sorry for rambling. Still trying to get used to this writing thing. I am sure this year will help.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 1: Joe

Prompt: "A song about starting over"

Selected by Joe


"Woke Up New"
The Mountain Goats
Get Lonely, 2006

I logged some serious reps of this song back in the winter of 2008, in the wake of my first breakup. Which is very embarrassing, now that it's all of a sudden sixteen years later and that four-month relationship seems minuscule against the grand scope of a fully-lived life, especially given that this particular song (off the Mountain Goats' very sad breakup-themed album, 2006's Get Lonely) speaks to love and loss in ways that my puny freshman-year-old-college brain couldn't even begin to comprehend at that point, but, like, hey, let's also maybe have a little grace for the sad messy tortured boy of yesterday. It's undeniably true that on a cold February morning in 2008 I woke up a different person, and let's not pretend that just because the "big difference" was that my Facebook relationship status was changed makes it any less worthy of emotions spent.

"I felt free and I felt lonely and I felt scared" is the line that sticks with me after all this time, long after the burn of that heartbreak and one thousand others have faded with time. Probably due to the way the three key words juxtapose each other, how "free" is usually used in a positive sense, but in this particular scenario, it comes attached with unforeseen circumstances: with freedom comes loneliness and fear for the future.

I can apply this koan to anything I so choose. Let's say, for instance, I'm at a shitty job that's getting shittier. This is the same job I complained about in the opening gambit for the last song challenge, by the way, and in the intervening seven months, I've felt even more boxed in than I did at the re-beginning, and at this current juncture, am suffocating (figuratively speaking, with hyperbole for effect). There's a dim light at the end of this particular tunnel, but I'm scared of it, if I'm being honest. There's a very real probability that I'm going to be promoted at some point during this Yearlong Song Challenge, and the only thing worse than missing out on that opportunity would be nailing it, because I fear the unknown, and I don't know what a promotion would look like or feel like. There's that lingering fear that change will only make my life worse, like a slightly bigger paycheck will act like a monkey's paw and I'll... I don't know, what's the worst that could happen, say that I won't have as much time to blog anymore or whatever? Or, a more serious answer: less time with my family, and all the maudlin cliché stuff your working family man could spout in this space?

Take that cocktail of imposter syndrome and laziness and regret at feeling compelled to pursue a career that doesn't necessarily spark any joy, and stuff it deep, deep down.

I can apply it too to some new blog project. Say, one where we are going to spend the year discussing music, and then discussing the stuff that music makes us think about, and know, and feel. In this regard: welcome to the Yearlong Song Challenge, I'll be your editor-in-chief for the next 366 days. I'll also be writing some bullshit down in my own posts, and you're unfortunately gonna just have to withstand if for the time being. This is what brings me joy. And yes, also: freedom, and loneliness, and fear.

Free because I have stumbled into a space online in which I feel like myself, and feel like I can express who I really am and how I really feel, and I want to hold onto this space for as long as I fucking can.

Lonely because, yeah, I guess it's a lot of work too, and though it's worth it, there's that crushing sense that one gets at the beginning of something like this, so many unknowns, so many words left to be written and published, a whole body of work that exists now in the hypothetical and only through a long and occasionally arduous process will it come to fruition and exist here in the real world. For now: empty space, and a bunch of promises.

Scared because a year is a long time, and I don't know where I'll be on January 1, 2025, and I'm afraid that if my life gets worse, than this blog project will inadvertently track that downfall. Or: I'm scared because we're starting over with another Song Challenge, and I hate starting over, and I'm afraid that starting over here will become somehow symbolic of other ways in which I am forced to start over in my actual life outside of the blog. Mainly career, but who the fuck knows, man!

I attempt to address the fear by setting goals, and drawing limits. Here during the Yearlong Song Challenge, nestled in a bustling Blogspot blog in the year 2024, my personal creative goals look similar to last summer's. I want to share some good and interesting music. I want to share a variety of music, too, and not just focus on the same ol' players in this game I've been playing for fifteen years now. I want to write creatively, but efficiently. I want to use the songs I choose to act as creative writing prompts, and I want to keep sharp the ability to just sit down and type and let the requisite number of words flow and call it a day. New this year: I want to keep the word count down, and I want it to feel denser, and I want my words to actually mean something instead of doing that thing where it feels like I'm just circle-jerking my way toward 1000 words.

Mainly, I want to have fun in this space. That's the thing that keeps the fear at bay, in all honesty. Blogging is fun! I sincerely enjoy what we do here, and I'm exciting to cultivate this space and to keep it alive. What fear? We're just doing this for fun. Fear?! Jesus fucking christ.

Okay, so, here we go. Starting over. Again. I woke up this morning, and I felt free, and I felt lonely, and I felt scared, and I face the new day, and the new beginning, with courage and with excitement and hope.