What's Missing from the News?

It's been a month and I haven't stopped hearing about how revolutionary and pioneering it is for Radiohead to let fans pay-what-they-feel-its-latest-album-is-worth. Sure, I applaud the band's decision because even if it isn't a success as this article alludes, it was surely worth the publicity in unusual sources like PC World. But for the love of Kipling's Six Honest Serving Men Radiohead aren't the first major label artists to do this.

Juliana Hatfield used the honor system since at least last year and Jane Siberry's been doing it since before iPods played videos and years before Radiohead refused to offer its catalogue digitally on iTunes. Now Radiohead are far more popular than Siberry and the "So-Called Angel" squared, but that doesn't excuse the lazy reporting.

A Google News search for Radiohead and Juliana Hatfield brings up a single meaningful result. To count the results for Jane Siberry and Radiohead I need both my hands—slight better. If you type in Radiohead alone (as of Nov 8) the first group of articles, on the one month update of the In Rainbows digital release, is 218. I'm going to need all my friends and their friends' friends' fingers and toes if I want to count every article about Radiohead's In Rainbows.

It's been a mere month and people already erroneously think Radiohead invented the honor system of payment for digitally distributed music. I'd hate to see how a couple years distorts things even further if the practice becomes common place.

I know this is a relatively trivial example to focus on, but this is why Jon Stewart was absolutely correct when he ripped the hosts of Crossfire and the media in general for harming the America by not properly and fully informing the public.


Granted Stewart's rant was more about the media's responsibility to be a government watchdog by objectively questioning and challenging the government's motives and actions rather than missing some key context for a story. His point still applies here, though.

Now I graduated with a Bachelor Journalism so maybe I'm being overly sensitive about not seeing Siberry and Hatfield mentioned in all but a couple handfuls of articles. But I happen to think that if somebody tells me another person did something a little out of the ordinary, let alone revolutionary, my first reaction is to find out how that person thought-up the idea. But shortly after and somewhat related, I want to know if somebody has done this or something similar before. It is only smart to benefit from others' experiences. Now I happen to remember reading about Juliana Hatfield's honor system last year so I already knew Radiohead's distribution model wasn't as revolutionary as I was reading and hearing.

I know that deadlines are frequently tight. Reporters don't often know a lot about subject they're assigned to cover because the staff sizes are usually too small to allow for specialisation. That being said, I thought I'd throw a few phrases into Google to see how hard it was to come up with either Siberry or Hatfield. I put "musician pay what you can" into Google and the third hit is "Jane Siberry Opens a Window On a Better Download". If you change the query to "musician honor system" the ninth hit on the third page (29 overall) is "Stereogum: Juliana Hatfield Free". Now if you didn't know what you were looking for and had some deadline pressure you might have missed the Hatfield link, but how on earth do you miss the Siberry link?

Is it really asking too much that a journalist does two minutes of searching and maybe fifteen minutes of research before writing an article? I know a premium is put on reporting news first (as the story breaks) and in some cases that's very valuable. If the ground starts shaking suddenly you probably want to confirm that you're in an Earthquake, so you can prepare for aftershocks and ensure all your loved ones are safe. But if a story isn't that time critical (and really what is?) journalists need to slow down and demand more time and more space for their stories because without the context and the details they really aren't telling the public anything valuable.

A Parallelogram with Four Congruent Sides and a Carelessly Concocted Frosty Beverage of Blended Milk, Ice Cream and Flavourings!

A while back I wrote about how Pancake Mountain has to be the greatest children's show ever produced.

It's refreshing to see a show that entertains kids and attempts to provide a little education, yet doesn't numb the minds of adults. Plus it can't hurt to introduce the kiddies to music not in the Top-40 and to deliver everything with a bit of satirical edge.

That being said the audience for Pancake Mountain cannot solely be indie parents and their children. I think that after a night of Sex Drugs and Rock 'n' Roll hipsters would love to wind down with a little bit more rock and some absurdity that doesn't require too much concentration.



But as good as Pancake Mountain is for a hipster hangover, this surpasses it. I'd like to explain it to you…but I can't. I can follow the plot and I understand that the seemingly random, irrelevant scenes mimic the A.D.D.-like attentions spans we have today. That being said I can't decide if this is just some sloppy milkshake's animated doodle or a brilliant cartoon.

Freeze-frame High-five, Phone-five and Suit-up All Wrapped into One!

Gather 'round kids 'cause I'm about to drop some knowledge:
Tonight's the return of How I Met Your Mother. After a summer of apprenticing at the Barney Stinson Institute of Barnication I have turned my buddy Ted into the best wingman not named Barney Stinson. Yes, his lack of Stinson DNA was a formidable obstacle but our boy overcame his genetic deficiency. It really was a thing of beauty to see him grow a pair and house them in finest bespoke-three-button-double-vented-soft-shouldered-super-120-wool, lock in on a cutlet, tame the coug, bag a sixteen, met the woman of his dreams and then didn't call her the next day. Heck he almost rack-jacked me.


So to get get you in the mood for tonight I present to you a Barntastic collection of awesomeness dudeship known as my greatest hits



P.S. Cute as a button Mandy Moore be guest staring. You better be watching because it's going to be Legend-wait-for-it-and-I-hope-you're-not-lactose-Inoterent-becuase-the-second-half-of-this-word-is-dairy.

Barney

The Queen of Pain has a sense of humour. Who would've thought? It figures.

Alanis Morissette has probably been called every positive and negative superlative. Heck, she was the biggest pop star in the world (between 1995-1996) during what was probably that last golden age of record sales. That kind of ubiquity breeds hatred and love in equally massive proportions. Far too much of the coverage was focused on defending her or deriding her for Jagged Little Pill. Whether you like the album or not is irrelevant because if it was released a year earlier or a year later it would never have become the phenomenon it did and there's no way I'd be writing about this. It was the right time, the right sound and the right marketing to the right audience; but that's a bit of a digression.

Now what hardly gets mentioned when people write or talk about Alanis is her wicked sense of humor. If you've seen Dogma, Feast on Scraps and or watched the 2004 Junos you know the lady not all fury, spirituality and dysfunctional relationships.

Although those were good for a chuckle she really deserves some accolades for with this cover of My Humps. It's absolutely brilliant satire. When you hear the original on the radio it sounds dumb. And Stacey Ferguson and the rest of the Black Eyed Peas made a video to match the ambition and scope of the song's message. But when the song's slowed down to the tempo Alanis has performed it at and stripped it down to a bare piano track there's nothing to distract you from the vapid lyrics. It really is and how deplorable that My Humps won a Grammy, reached number three on the Billboard Top 40 and was number one in Lithuania. Actually Lithuania gets a pass becuase they may not have quite understood all the euphemisms, but shame on you Ireland, Australia and New Zealand. What's your excuse?

Don't get me wrong I do love an escapist pop song to get 'em storming the dance floor (I've got reference if you'd like), but there really is nothing redeemable about this tune—except maybe this cover.

Is anyone else disturbed that Alanis makes a frighteningly convincing Chavette. I swore I heard her say 'innit?' at the end of the video.

Suit-up. We're Going to the Mall Today and it's Going to be Legendary!

I think I may have witnessed the greatest half-hour of situation comedy this decade. Whoever was responsible for writing yesterday's episode of How I Met Your Mother deserves a monument, some currency and a statutory holiday in his/her/their honour.

If you've never seen How I met Your Mother then for shame! But seriously The premise is an architect named Ted, who through the use of an occasional Bob Saget voiceover, is explaining to his kids how he met their mom. Yes, it sounds overly cute, but it's more The Princess Bride than eye-roll-inducing-neverending anecdote. Generally I get more than a few laughs out of the relationship and dating shenanigans of twenty-something Ted, best friend Marshall, his fiancé Liliy, Robin and Barney. But yesterday it was absolutely brilliant. First there was "slap bet" between Barney and Marshall. It will fit nicely in amongst the the "lemon law", "phone-five", the "rack-jack", "legnd-ary" and the mulitple variations of "suit-up".

But the real gem yesterday was the Robin Sparkles video. Perhaps Bob made a trip to the writers meeting to tell the story about his days at Full House with Uncle Joey; regardless this is the perfect parody of early Alanis Morissette (back when she was just Alanis and singing songs like Plastic. The song nails the production values, choreography and wardrobe or an American '80s Tiffany video or a Canadian early '90s Alanis video—sometimes things catch on slower here. If that wasn't enough the song references those cool Robot butler toys and Prime Minister Brian Mulroney getting down. So in honour of the show's writers and Robin Sparkle I'm off to the mall to get season one of How I met Your Mother on DVD, today.

Watch the video below.

Grab the Mp3 and be Robin's friend here.

Read Barney's blog here.

Dog Bites Bear And I Don't Mean McGruff Busting Yogi

Man alive this has to be the funniest story I’ve read since the one about the Santa who fell off the float and scared the kiddies with a gash needing E.R. treatment. An entire course at every J-school needs to be devoted to studying the brilliance of that story’s lead.

What I simply cannot fathom is that this came as a surprise.

Sure it’s a given that the insurance company is going to demand some substantial security for a public exhibition of a collection of that value. But the closest the poindexter who insisted upon a guard dog must have come to a canine is a Tamagotchi. My satirical mind is convinced the insurance meeting probably went like this:

“What’s on the agenda today?”

“Some teddy bear museum wants insurance.”

“Let’s have a dog guard a room full of valuable teddybears that it probably considers chew toys.”

“Absolutely brilliant. Make it so.”

“Anything else.”

“No.”

“Then can we go swimming in the money pit again?”

“No…today you earned a visit to the diamond-filled one.”

Now in all seriousness the insurance companies aren’t known for rash decisions so how this slipped by is beyond me. I could only imagine one worse scenario than what actually occured. Believe me it took some time but I think I've just managed to top it. Have a dog guard a room full of one-of-a-kind dinosaur bones covered in dog treats attached to rubber balls (reeking of the scent of hundred of other dogs) being tossed back and forth.

But that lowly insurance worker (who was surely shitcanned as a result of this decision) doesn’t earn all of the blame here. How can you not have the (donated) star attraction of the exhibit under some sort protection at all times? Then again this was the Wookey Bear Collection at Wookey Hole Caves? No I didn't make that up. I'm not that creative. How hilarious is that page’s picture?

At least this story gave some journalists the opportunity to have a little fun. “Having got a taste for stuffing, Barney then went on to maul several other toys.” Richard Alleyne you cheeky bugger this story was like Christmas morning for you wasn’t it?

Bella Italia

It was a whim. The door opened and a tiled black "Christie" was staring at me. So I stepped through the doors and before I realised it I was on a familiar path down Grace and on to College. When i got there what I saw was beautiful.
The Tricolore was everywhere.

I saw nona, madre and bambini parading together up and down the streets.

I saw people my age, people my parents age, people their parents age and people their grand children's age playing "keep-up" in a circle. Together!

I saw people of Asian decent holding Italian flags with friends of Italian decent.

I saw dancing in the streets.

I saw people shouting from rooftops.

I saw a good handful of blocks, normally congested with cars, taxis and limos every weekend, overrun with pedestrians.

And I saw smiles. Oh did I see smiles. I couldn't find a single person who wasn't happy to be there. Heck even I couldn't stop smiling.

Yes it would've been nice if were an even more multi-cultural, more generational and we were celebrating something our country had accomplished. And maybe some day Canada will win the World Cup and 2006 will be considered nothing more than a small gathering.

But in the mean time it was wonderful to see a kind of kinship and celebration that's rarely seen in a modern city where we don't even care enough to know our neighbours' names or can't even be bothered to make it cross town to visit family or friends on a weekly basis.

Yes I know I've expressed an uneasiness with my heritage in the past. But today I'm proud.

So I walked up and down Little Italy with a prima-grin, quietly observing and contently munching on my coppetta of gelato just as my parents told me I had done in 1982—technically in '82 I was being pushed in a stroller. On Sunday I saw little bambini doing just that. Hopefully they won't have to wait 24 years to do it again.

Forza Italia and Go Canada the True North strong and free.