"Temporality is part of the truth" -- Chuck Klosterman

Thursday, March 29, 2012

My Girl Wants To

I realize this is a strange thing to post after not posting anything for a while (if you missed yesterday's Comeback Post, be sure to check it out), but this song popped up recently on my iPod. I didn't realize I even owned it. Turns out it's on some random collection of 80's super-memorable power-dance hits CD I ended up with somehow, complete with all-time classics from Terence Trent Darby and Will to Power. (Tell me what songs they sing and I'll give you a cookie.)

I'll tell you why I'm writing about this, but first listen to Eddie Murphy's "Party All the Time," especially those of you who've never heard it and have been missing out your whole worthless lives:

So I found myself contemplating what in the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks possesses a comedian at the peak of celebrity to record such a sexy beast of a song. It's as if all along he was paying it forward, giving future comedians fodder ripe and ready for parody.

I mean, without "Party All the Time," we never would have received the bounty that is "Werewolf Bar Mitzvah" from Tracy Jordan (don't try to watch the video; but do listen to the song):

Okay, so my point is that I was listening to Eddie Murphy's quasi-serious-falsetto-croon, wondering if he really sang the vocals, something I've wondered ever since 1985, even though he has since garnered an Academy Award nomination for playing some singer in Dreamgirls (so I do believe he can sing; I just doubted he sang "Party All the Time"; wouldn't you?). And since I lacked wisdom, I reached out to the source we all must rely upon one day: Wikipedia.

Oh, the revelation! Not only did I realize that Eddie did in fact sing the vocals on this single but I was rapturously greeted by the following summary of the song.

Seriously, if you've stuck with me so far, you must read this. I didn't write it. Wikipedia did.
The song tells a harrowing tale from the perspective of a heartbroken lover, portrayed in the first-person by Eddie Murphy. He begins by questioning, perhaps rhetorically, why the female with whom he is currently participating in a relationship would want to cause him emotional pain. The narrator goes on to list extravagant items he's purchased for her, including, but not limited to: Champagne, Roses, and Diamond rings. Despite the items that the narrator has given, the female still insists on staying out all night (presumably in the company of other men). The narrator then poses perhaps another rhetorical question as to what he should do to remedy this depressing situation. The listener is then repeatedly informed that the narrator's "girl" wishes to attend nightclubs and house parties at all hours of the day and night. Later on, the narrator points out that he's acted as a voyeur and observed said female whilst she was present at an unknown nightclub. She was seen providing her telephone number to virtually every male patron of the club with whom she came in verbal contact. We are then informed that the narrator's female companion never arrives at their place of residence in the evening. Her absence is believed to be caused by infidelity, presumably with one or many of the men with whom she became acquainted earlier that evening. The narrator then goes on to wish that his female companion would have sexual intercourse with him, instead of the many other men with whom she has been copulating.

I will never doubt Wikireality again.

But I still don't believe Eddie Murphy really sang "Party All the Time."

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

I totally lied.

Remember a month and a half ago when I said I was back in the groove, like Homer after the carnies vacated his house?

I suppose I didn't so much "lie" as "not follow through."

Since then, I've written scarcely a word that wasn't about a high school IB World Literature paper or an eleventh grade argument essay, and to be honest there weren't a whole lot of the latter turned in despite the arrival of the end of the quarter. I even abandoned my critique group since not living up to expectations was giving me the figurative ulcer.

I'm now midway through my Spring Break, and I should have a lot more time on my hands. I do, but I don't. This was all a lot easier last year when the boy was immobile and would sit in his little chair or the crook of my arm without a fuss while I typed away at my chronicles. So, whatever. I'm going to have to make it happen.

Feng Shui:
Maybe all my mom needed was
a few rocks to stack.
By now you may have noticed a slight change or two on the bloggy face of Building Castles on the Beach. Just a little touch-up to start things fresh. My mom used to do this with the furniture. Every year or so, she'd rearrange the house: put the couch on the far wall, the television in the other corner. It was a novelty that lasted a day or two, then we all realized that we still had he same comfy couch to nap on and the same old telly to watch Leave it to Beaver in the summer. So don't worry about me. I really only changed the pretty colors.

I have had to delete my offering of fellow blogs, though. About half of the blogs I read a year ago are defunct or at least on a longer hiatus than I have ever been, so keeping them on a blogroll seemed counterproductive. I haven't been reading many (by which I mean: any) other blogs anyway, so when I reacquaint myself with the great ones, I'll be sure to make my recommendations known.

And I still need to find a better widget to spotlight some music, something I can update or change according to my whim. Any ideas anyone?

Give me a cravat, and that's definitely me.
There's one more item I need to address before too long. Last month, Shelly over at The Life of a Novice Writer proffered me the honorific "Hot Man of Blogs." I'm unclear on the "hot" part of all this, but she compares me to the dad in Father Knows Best (or maybe Marcus Welby MD, but that would make less sense), which for many reasons would have unsettled me in my younger days, but which today I understand is fairly spot on. I'm not Robert Young exactly, but I am a father and I do happen to know best. I'm glad someone finally noticed.

And, remember, I didn't really lie.

So, I'm back. Save some space and time for tirades against stupidity, plugs for good tunes, and odes to my son. I don't plan to burn out or fade away anytime soon.