Before seeing a preview of Scott Pilgrim v. The World a few nights ago, the audience was privy to a trailer for Devil. You know how the story goes: five people—hot chick, creep, black dude, straight-edge business man, and an old lady—get stuck in an elevator, creepy shit happens, etc, etc. Best part about this? You get pretty into the build, what with all the cut-aways and intense music and leading dialogue, at one point you may even cower behind your hands even though it’s just a preview (shut up), until you see the credits flash across the screen. The gods of spin really need to intervene when the name M. Night Shyamalan flashes across the screen and a whole theatre laughs and boos.

Weird Al, easily being mistaken for  fellow-comedian Russell Brand

No jokes. Not only is he alive, but he’s doing well, almost as if we’re still waiting for the ’90s to happen. As recently as June 18 he was still touring, and little did I know that he released a best of double disc CD (album art above) in 2009. On top of all that, he’s still putting out new material. What!?

I’m actually pretty happy that Weird is not dead, which I found out after stumbling across this very recent NPR’s Tiny Desk concert. He played three new songs, two of them non-parodies, and one of them a White Stripes compilation/parody about Charles Nelson Reilly, a truly obscure bygone actor to pick for a parody. Out of the three songs, it was really the only one that got a healthy dose of laughter and applause, the others just being straight up not funny. But we can learn two things about Weird through this concert: the guy can make his voice sound however he wants; and his parodies are entertaining enough that he could probably do them until he actually dies. That is, afterall, what he is good at, and what anyone reading this blog likely remembers him for, myself included.

From his 1984 album Weird Al Yankovic in 3D onwards, Weird introduced pop culture (that was the “like a surgeon” album) to me, via of course my parents, because as if I knew how to work a cassette deck at five- or six-years-old. I followed him fairly closely, him being a regular fixture on Much Music (and ESPECIALLY his still awesome fake interviews) but it wasn’t until 1992, when his cover of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” introduced an older me to the very first band I would become a super fan of. In fact, after stumbling upon the original source of the song (I actually thought it was a Weird Al original) I was so hooked that I swore off cheesy parodies of good music and sought out pretty much any music that Nirvana cited as good: MudHoney, Sonic Youth, the Meat Puppets, the Pixies, etc… which led to anything coming from Seattle at the time, which of course led me to believe that I was pretty ‘in the know’ in terms of what good music was. Nevertheless, I never listened to Weird again. Shows how grateful I am of the guy who actually introduced me to good music, and ultimately turned me off bad music, i.e. his. Anyways, thanks for that Weird. Glad you’re still kicking.

Between my Steve Nash and Under Armour posts and Jef’s post-humous tribute to Dennis Hopper via Nike ads, you’d think we’re turning into a sports blog here at the Ashcan. And sure, football, or basketball, or mixed martial arts are all great past-times requiring athletic ability and talent. But if you want to see a real sport — one that combines speed, power, dexterity and no juggles? Well then, let’s turn back the clock and visit the world of competitive one-wall American handball.

Apparently this is a popular past-time in New York, which features handball courts in many public parks. And here I was in grade school, stuck using our crappy brick wall like a chump. I doubly hated the little indented 6 inch gap where the wall met the ground and resulted in replayed kill shots. Like, lame yo.

P.S. no waterfalls either. those are for sissies.

You don’t need to be be a sports fan to understand the poignant life lessons bouncing a ball or skating in circles can often teach us. How else can we explain the universal appeal derived from watching films like Rudy, or A League of Their Own, or any of the Mighty Ducks franchise to even the most casual of athletic observers. It’s not about the game itself; it’s about what the game can teach us.

In this regard, what we have here is a five second clip that reminds us of everything that makes sports great. Consider the context of this clip:

Here, in this heart-wrenching moment, is Steve Nash –  36 year old father of two twin daughters, husband, millionaire, world famous athlete, Olympic torch bearer, perennial all-star, two time NBA MVP, Canadian Olympic athlete, and arguably, taken as a body of work, over the past ten years the best person ON THE PLANET at his job, crying because he lost a basketball game.

He has everything anybody in life could ever want and more. His life is a dream. Yet, he’s crying, because he didn’t achieve the one most simple goal of playing sports: to win. The mansion he drives home to will be of little consolation. His celebrity won’t grant him a redo.

There’s a purity to this moment that rings true, cutting through the sheen of the NBA’s glamour that resonates with anybody in the history of mankind who has ever played any sort of sport and really wanted to win, be it in a multi-million dollar arena or on a slanted driveway in the rain.

Sometimes at the heart of it the simple things in life are the most valuable, the things that money and fame can’t buy. Most importantly, if this clip teaches people anything else, it’s that losing a game most certainly doesn’t mean you can’t still come out a winner.

Practical observation has shown that as terrified as homophobes claim to be (see: most professional athletes) of homosexuality, the more hyper-masculine these individuals act, the more their behaviour actually falls in line with their blind assumptions about gay culture (see: mixed martial arts).

Naturally, fashion should be no different, and we have finally come to the infinite point of gender intersect with the Under Armour Recharge suit. Or, perhaps as most people might recognize it: A FUCKING LEOTARD.

For every jock who would call ballet gay, perhaps wearing this suit will help them realize that either:

A) Ballet is not just a fruity hobby and takes as much or more supreme athleticism as any major sport

or

B) Every locker room scene from “Any Given Sunday” was so totally, totally gay

Carrying on the proud exploitative tradition of the Scarface School Play, we here have kids reenacting TMZ’s television show, right down to Harvey Levin’s ubiquitous plastic water bottle. Despite the played to death “let’s have kids act inappropriately” gimmick, I remain duly impressed with the level of attention put into this parody. Personal favourites include the shin level camera shots (“WHY IS A BABY HOLDING A CAMERA?”) and belligerent Grover. Of note, this TMZ farce is only two minutes long and acted with kids, but still more intelligent than the unfortunate porn riff on TMZ. That link is awesome by the way. The only thing funnier than porn is its trailers; particularly when most of it centres around boobs-mc-bizarro Jessica Simpson and a bucket of fried chicken.

After having a brief conversation with Anupa about how Canadian rappers are overrated (yes, all of them. Except Shad, who I think gets exactly the right pinch of adulation, and Cadence Weapon, who gets exactly the right pinch of blank stares), I got to thinking about what else in our crazy world is held in higher esteem than rationally warranted.

Without further ado, here are the top 5 overrated things as of May 19, 2010:

Chocolate Ice Cream

This is white chocolate. I don't know how I feel about it.

Vanilla vs. Chocolate is one of the greatest debates in the history of the first world. It’s like Batman vs. Superman, Paul vs. John or Shark vs. Elephant. Generally, chocolate is considered superior — to the point where vanilla has become a synonym for plain and boring. How did that happen? Women. Chocolate gets by on its rep with the fairer sex. But really, what makes chocolate so great anyways? You wouldn’t want to smell like chocolate, as evidenced by the lack of chocolate scented candles, perfumes and air fresheners (vanilla is a popular seller from what I observe). Vanilla is also a much more versatile cooking ingredient than chocolate, useful in recipes such as tomato sauce that chocolate dare not tread. Many people may say they love chocolate, but a great vanilla is the foundation upon which all epic ice cream cabinets are assembled. As for strawberry? Totally Ringo.

Terminal Disease Fund-Raising Events

HEAR ME OUT BEFORE THINKING I AM EVIL. My doctor friends kind of surprised me recently by sharing the following: “If people stopped smoking and drinking, I’d be out of a job.” And well hey, whuddaya know, they’re right! As much as we ride for aids research, run for cancer research or climb stairs for heart disease or whatever, the fact is we’re devoting an awful lot of time to treating symptoms instead of causes. The causes are butts and booze. Here’s a handy infographic from Time that gets the picture across. Smoking alone contributes directly to six of the top eight causes of death globally, particularly heart and lung diseases. Alcohol has a similar (albeit less overt) effect. Why don’t we have events like the walkathon-for-the-abolition-of-cigarettes? Isn’t getting rid of an existing product easier than spending trillions of dollars inventing a cure for its myriad negative consequences?

Apple Products

Did I just blow your minds? Anyone who knows me can attest to my fanboy nature, unhealthy love of my macbook and undying devotion to my iPhone. Still, I call it when I see it — Apple products are overrated. Everyone praises Apple for their minimalism and, granted, “it just works” is a by-product of Apple’s bare minimum approach to design and user interface. Everything is one click away and intuitive because, frankly, Macs and OSX can do less than Windows on a PC can. It has less customization, less features, less connectivity. And one could argue Microsoft creates bloated software, but just because Apple exists in a niche market for those craving simplistic computing doesn’t mean people don’t ever want to do real, hardcore nerd work on their computers. And if they want to do that serious business, they need PC’s. With Windows. Yea, sometimes in design less is more. But sometimes when you need functionality, less is just… less.

Real Yellow Fever is not a laughing matter

Asian Women

This is not a post of hate. I love Asian girls as much as I love any other women out there. But that’s the whole point — Asian chicks are no better or worse than any other women. The whole concept of dudes running rampant with “Yellow Fever”  both amuses and confuses me, with dashes of horror sprinkled in. Why Asian girls? Why is there no Persian fever? Those chicks are gorgeous. Is it the idea of submissiveness? The aesthetic of perpetual pre-pubescence? All of the above? Either way, the idea that Asian girls in this day and age are still somewhat exotic needs to end. My female Asian friends may be great girls, but they are certainly not exotic. They will nag you to death in English, just like any other woman will, and believe me, they are most certainly not going to fetch your slippers for you before cooking dinner. In fact, if anything they’ll probably produce a spreadsheet for you pinpointing exactly what all your faults are and how you need to improve using quantifiable metric stats. Curiously, the stereotype of Asians generally being good at math is entirely not overrated.

Ninety Per Cent of Modern Art

At what point did the ability to paint things realistically cease being good art anyways? When photos were invented? And yet Richard Prince is considered a great artist for photographing a photograph? It just seems in our sensationalized culture the crazy ideas, when acted upon, are praised for their chutzpah and deified as art simply on the conceit of originality. Art is the only arena this happens. In real life, crazy ideas are generally viewed with proper apprehension because — surprise! — crazy ideas are often stupid. The objective post-modernism of “I don’t know what’s art, but I know what I like,” isn’t supposed to be justification for turning art into what you like. It’s justification for having bad taste. I don’t claim to appreciate fine art or be an expert, but that’s just that. I know my limitations and if I wanted to expand my horizons, I’d seek to properly educate myself. Most of modern art however seems to fail at capturing this most simple of ideas — art is what you made, not the abstract bullshit you wrote on a little sign to explain your laziness.

If this means they are adopting an Asian kid though, I’M DONE. In semi-related news, why can’t I just enjoy life? I can’t even feel this knife.

From the department of brilliant ideas, 100 busses in Copenhagen are testing out a new social experiment by adding a special “love seat” to their interiors. Distinguished by distinctive red fabric, commuters sitting in the designated seat are complicity broadcasting a willingness to talk to strangers,  or perhaps even a desire to flirt his or her way to love.

The practical side of me thinks this is a cute venture, combining the efficiency of speed dating with the environmentalism of public transport.

The realistic side of me envisions teenagers pointing and laughing mercilessly at anyone who dare sit in those red chairs.

via: The City Fix