www.brendynschneider.com is in the early stages of a complete redesign. Any thoughts? Please leave all suggestions, ideas and general gripes here. Mahalo.
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How has Yo La Tengo done it?
Consistent brilliance.
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I cut out a newspaper clipping years ago and taped it to my laptop. It's a little yellow these days but my fascination in its subject is still fresh. It reads,
"Cape Canerval. The space shuttle Atlantis sped through space at five miles a second yesterday..."
Five miles a second.
Need milk? Here you go.
Ever get the car up to 90? Add 17,910 mph to that.
Five miles a second.
The captain sneezes and the whole shuttle's in a snow bank in Fargo.
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There’s been a lot of talk about Mexico lately. To be sure, the drug cartels, swine flu and government corruption aren’t to be taken lightly but I wonder how many outspoken critics of Mexico have actually been there. I’m not talking about some Club Med resort either, but really been there.
A few years back, I traveled down through a state called Oaxaca to research my second book. All the stories I had heard about the food were unfounded, the people misguided and the water…well, the stories about the water were dead on. But everything else was beautiful.
The next time that columnist, drive-time radio host or neighbor down the street starts in about our southern neighbors, consider this counterpoint: a lot of the mapmakers out there have never been to the charted destination.
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"Thou Shalt Not Steal." It’s pretty straight-forward, right? Keep your hands off someone else's junk. Go get your own. But I've been thinking about that lately. What if it's in a Robin Hood vein? Let's say you robbed a drug dealer and gave the cash to a mother on the dole? What if you lived in Kabul, robbed the owner of a poppy palace and divvied the money out to a couple of guys who can't afford college? Does the stigma of stealing ever break down?
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I’ve been reading Tolkien and C.S. Lewis: the gift of friendship by Colin Duriez. It’s fascinating that these two literary giants not only knew each other but were close friends. Lewis actually read an incomplete draft of The Hobbit. Talk about the terrific static electricity of a single mental image.
Both J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis believed that at the heart, a good story marries myth and fact, that’s there’s got to be both for the story to roll.
You can see this in their works. In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Aragorn is just a man but he spends half the series slicing through Orcs. In Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia, a London lamppost stands in a wood populated by talking animals.
As a writer though, I’m wondering if a successful fantasy can be broken down to just that – a successful combo of myth and fact. Is there more?
I open the topic up to you. Charge up those thoughts and fire away.
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Radio Writes welcomes all comments, opinions, gripes and updates here. Fire away.
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A movie's quality is in direct relation to how long you're in the seat after it's finished.
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In 1993, “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” became law. In a nutshell, homosexuals aren’t allowed to serve in the military but as long as you don’t tell us you’re gay, we’re not gonna talk about it.
It all started way back with Leviticus 18:22: “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.”
Then again, the bible also states, “The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman’s garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the Lord thy God.” (Deuteronomy 22:5)
So, there’s a danger in taking some parts of the bible too literally. I don’t think a cross dresser is headed for Hell just because he’s wearing a cute skirt.
People are strong in their beliefs though. The divide on homosexuality remains. Check out this January 21 article: http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20090121/us_nm/us_obama_troops_gay_1
On one side, you’ve got folks like Specialist Joseph Watson who said, “Personally, I don't think being gay is OK” and Specialist Justin Scharan who claimed, "I'm Christian, so I really don't believe (repealing the ’93 law) is a good thing.”
On the other side, you’ve got former President Bill Clinton and President Barack Obama. In his first term, Clinton tried to open the door for homosexuals but it was quickly closed again by the military. Now Obama has the law in his crosshairs. Check this January 7 article: http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20090107/ts_alt_afp/usmilitarygays_newsmlmmd
Is the gay ban righteous in the eyes of God or is it another contrivance reinforced by a presumed connection to the bible (Ask any garden-variety racist about Ham) that we’re in the process of overcoming? Fifty years ago, you would not have seen a black US president. In fifty years, will gay folks be accepted in the military?
Racism will never die outright. There will always be some form of ignorance as there’s always room to learn. But we all felt that seismic swell of optimism on January 20 when Obama became president. As a country, we have progressed. Now, are we finally seeing that homosexuality is not synonymous with blasphemy?
The last quote of the January 21 article reads: "Put it this way: if they're willing to fight for their country, to me, it doesn't make a difference. Everybody has a right to defend their country, even if they are gay."
I’d cite who said that but he asked that his name and rank not be identified. Would there be reprisals if he were?
The debate continues but I think I know who’s winning.
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I knew this girl Kara in college who broke it down one night.
“Eight hours is the goal, right? But when do you ever get eight hours of sleep? It’s usually more like seven. You can get away with seven but by Thursday, you’re kinda feeling tired. It’s still better than six. Six is sort of the cut-off point. Six on down and you’re in trouble.”
That little sleep soliloquy has always stuck with me. It’s dead on. There’s the Wheaties box feeling of eight hours of sleep every night. Then the seven-hours fatigue that calls for a nap on Thursday afternoon and yeah, from six hours on down, things get pretty psychedelic. The journey of walking around on only five hours of sleep gets more and more treacherous the older you get. Your eyes feel smoky, people’s expressions sort of falter when you repeat yourself. I have a problem with kitchen cabinets when I haven’t had enough sleep.
So, for this category, hit up Radio Writes with a Not-Enough-Sleep anecdote, and tonight, board that DreamLand Train a station or two earlier than last night.
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I love the Christmas Tree lot. Present Day hasn’t caught up to it yet, y’know? The chain link fence, the thick old Christmas tree lights, snow-sprinkled trees, Christmas music coming from some hidden spot, that weird funnel thing they’re shoving the trees through, the guy in the thin flannel jacket, blowing on his hands – it’s all still in the past somewhere.
Kelly and I went to the lot in Allston the other night, quoting the Charlie Brown Christmas Special the whole way over. “It’s not a bad tree. It’s just needs a little love.” I love how one Christmas ball disses Charlie Brown’s tree. “Ugghh! I killed it!” Charlie Brown – soo heavy duty. Kid had so many heavy thoughts and he was like, what? 10?
So, we get down there and start looking for “the tree.” There are always a few also-rans but invariably, there’s one tree that stands out. That’s your tree. Along the way, there’s the smell of pine and the tunes to put a spring in your step. We find our tree and I take a page from my dad’s script, offering the guy a few extra bucks to tie the tree to the car. On the walk across the street, I asked him how business was since the economy tanked. “Oh,” he said, “it’s fine. Y’know, nobody talks about how bad things are when they’re picking out a tree. It’s like they just forget about it.” He put the tree against the car, rubbed his hands together and said, “The tree is the one thing people will always buy. They’ll buy less stuff, they won’t shop as much but the tree, y’know? It’s different. People buy it to feel better about things. They’re gonna buy a tree to get that feeling, y’know?” I did know. I knew exactly what he was talking about.
Radio Writes welcomes your holiday stories. Click on the link below and fire away! On behalf of all of us here at Landing Fields, Merry Christmas.
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Maybe it's the crap state of the economy or that it's getting dark out sooner but I want some Macs and Cheese. In classic granny tradition, I'm gonna post the best Macaroni and Cheese recipe there is. This was passed down for generations in my family. You'll never go Kraft again. Check it.
Get a lb. of yellow American cheese, a jar of 4C grated cheese, salt and pepper, a can of Hunts whole tomatoes (in juice) and a box of macaroni (usually comes in a lb). Dump the macs into a pot and boil until al dente. Preheat oven to 350. In a greazy casserole, lay down a layer of macs, then a layer of cheese, some tomatoes, some juice, grated cheese then salt and pepper. Keep layering like this until all the macs, cheese, tomatoes and juice are in there. Put it in the oven, covered, for an hour to an hour & a 1/2 or until the cheese is melted and bubbling.
Best stuff on Earth and probably very fattening.
Landing Fields welcomes comments and more recipes.
BON APPETIT!
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Thinking of how the years are cyclic, I matched up the months the other day. Weather-wise, each month has a counterpart. July=August, June=September, May=October, April=November, March=December and January=February. The seasons come in by the hour then by a portion of the day, by whole days, and finally, weeks. There's always that bizarre warm day in February or that cold day in August. Those are really just the first breaths of coming seasons, before the flowers and the snow. It was warm in Boston today, one of the few remaining threads on the coattails of summer. We'll take it though and smile because we're cyclic too, echoing our shadows on the coast of an early spring oasis.
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I’m about 5’ 8”. The ladder was 7’ and the top of the window was about 14’ off the ground. The ground itself was on a slope so I had to find a big, somewhat flat rock to get the whole scene level. Next, I got the brush going in the can. When it was good and heavy, I began the climb, holding a dripping brush with my left hand and the ladder with my right. Can you appreciate the kinetic potential for absolute mayhem here?
“Getting the paintin’ done before the rains, huh?”
It was the neighbor across the street. “The rains.” Like we were in Madagascar. Entertainment’s tight in the suburbs. You have to take what you can get. He took a long slow drag from his cigarette, watching me approach death like the Romans used to when they released the lions on the Christians.
I nodded. “Yep. Painting before the rain but that’s the long term, friend. Our short term goal today is to make sure I don’t end it all right here. You’re gonna be my spotter. If I take an unintended, backwards header, you hop on your phone and get that ambulance down here quick ‘cause I’ll be in pretty rough shape. See what you can do about saving the paint too. This is the premium gloss. Sound good? You with me?”
I looked over and noticed that he had gone inside, his cigarette on the pavement, spouting a thin trail of smoke across his front walk and lawn. I smiled, marveling at the human condition.
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The dual demise of Lehman Bros. and Merrill Lynch isn’t the easiest stuff to understand. Hedge funds, derivatives and bridge loans remind me of the explanations you get from I/T people. I didn’t even want to finish the article I was reading. It will all work itself out, I thought. It always does.
Then it hit me. Was that the ultimate culprit behind the financial crisis – a lack of interest, here in the States, in the nuts and bolts of our economy? Did an apathetic stance pave the way for, say, predatory lending? What if we all knew a little more about our country's financial structure? Would unemployment be so high? Would companies be collapsing?
I finished the article.
We can all agree that knowledge fuels confidence. In turn, consumer confidence stimulates the economy. During an economic downturn such as this, it would then stand to reason that ignorance is a formidable germ.
It is imperative that we all start paying closer attention. The financial crisis is now at a point where we can no longer just let it all work itself out. What would it mean if every one of us had a working knowledge of our economy? I think it’s time we find out because we may be losing more daylight than usual in the next few months.
In the September 16th issue of the NY Times, money management firm president Michael Lewitt wrote, "Regulators knew that if Lehman went down, the world wouldn't end. But Wall Street isn't remotely prepared for the inestimable damage the financial system would suffer if AIG collapsed."
Knowledge is our brightest light in darker times.
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With the conventions, I've been watching a lot of TV. The commercials. My God. 30-second transmissions of torture. Remember the Twinkie Defense? Can I plead temporary insanity if I throw my TV out onto Route 9? How have we avoided complete mayhem with these things on the air? They certainly don't make me want to buy anything. Far from it. How many times have you heard The Romantics' "What I Like About You"? NOW, how many times have you heard it on commercials for cars, cell phones and terrifying movies starring Chris Klein? You used to like the song, right? Yeah, me too.
Car commercials have to be the worst. That raucous announcer. Where'd they find him? Is that his real voice? Is he human? Imagine trying to sneak through someone's backyard with that guy. You'd be a goner for sure. When is it NOT Mazda clearance time? Maybe they'd unload some of these things if they chucked that speed freak of an announcer.
And, now, whoa, the ads for medicine. Is it just me or are the side effects for this stuff far worse than what they cure? Erectile dysfunction or sudden nosebleeds and a clear anal discharge. Man, there's something to mull over.
Searing covers of Beatles songs. Awful renditions of "Call Me" by Blondie. Threatening, high-pitch declarations that it's gonna be a Subaru summer. The worst acting since Armageddon. Someone's gonna be committed - an unforeseen result of consumerism's dim-witted battle cry. Through it all, a recession cackles on.
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There have been a lot of comparisons between the Vietnam War and the war in Iraq. The clearest drawn parallels I’ve seen are in the documentary, The Fog of War. I got to thinking about the biggest difference though. Where are all the protests this time around? The sit-ins? The locked together intellectuals getting maced and thrown in jail? The 12-string peace songs about times to rend and sew? Yeah, there have been protests and some marches but not with the vehemence of our 1960s counterparts. Have the iPODS, iPHONES and mySpace pages (me, me, me, I, I, I. No “WePhones” on the market, kids) of the ME Generation lulled them into an ear-budded state of apathy? I always thought so. I always thought there’s too much easy-access distraction for kids nowadays to care.
Then, the other day, my friend Lauren said that the blame doesn’t lie with all of the gadgets and internet shit that’s out there. It’s the lack of a draft. I never thought of that. The LACK of a draft. Is that why there were so many protests against the Vietnam War? Is that why there was so much more spirit forty years ago? Was is just another ME generation; one whose drive wasn’t iPhone but iDon’tWannaGoToWar? Is that it? I mean, there’s just as many drugs. Learning to play an instrument is easier than ever. There’s just as much hatred for Bush as there was for Nixon, maybe more. Here we are with another unpopular war. We still have folks in the armed forces coming home, splintered up. Lots of parallels. But where’s the rebellion? Isn’t it just as justified now as it was in ‘69? Yeah, like I mentioned, there have been folks out there handing out pamphlets and coordinating rallies. But that guitar-fueled, fist-in-the-air, I-dare-you wave of resistance? Nope.
So, is it due to a lack of a draft? If there hadn’t been a draft in the 60s, would it have been “The 60s”? Would the parallel lines be complete if the draft was reinstated? I ask you, World. Let 'em know. Fire away.
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So, for those of you listening in at home, my apologies for not being on point with the updates lately. I was stuck at a traffic intersection for the last few days and the only thing that pushing the button on the pole did was make me feel like a complete jackass. I feel like everytime you press one of those silly things, the only thing that happens is a buzzer rings downtown and the guys in the Traffic and Transit Office die laughing. "Hey! Somebody else pressed the button to cross. Turn on the camera on that street. Let's see how many times he pushes it!"
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When I leave my apartment, the chirping stops and whispering starts
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