Snake America all-Bernie Sanders-donation special (topics chosen by donors) PART TWO
records, tracksuits, Soviet subcultures, double guitars, candy, pool, friendship, Oberheim synthesizers, dedicated sandwiches, Mallomars, bikes
Last week I said if readers donated to Bernie Sanders’ campaign before the January-end deadline I would write about whatever they wanted. Many did! The first part is here. The rest of the answers are below.
Hank asks:
Write about the dos and don’t’s of buying tracksuits.
I don’t think there are rules to buying tracksuits, only guideposts to determine which way you would like to buy one. Now’s a good time to avoid 1980s, showy, vintage golden-era Nike tracksuits and to move towards the other pole, which is dressing like a Sopranos character, in gaudy, 1990s Nike, or newer Tacchini, or even Puma. I used to think that didn’t work but something changed in the last few years and now it does. The rule is don’t go full mob unless you either look scary or really don’t. Like how the chief of police in Violent Cop is a pencil neck.
I am sorry for the theoretical advice. Big and plain is great. I think tracksuits are best avoided for complementary, but not matched, athletic clothing. Luxury tracksuits are really fresh but become dated fast. Like Alessandro Michele stuff. The key is in the styling. What is underneath—a guinea tee? a plain shirt? an oxford? nothing? That’s what makes it. Counterpointing a trackie with formal is the way to go. The other rule—for me at least—is to stay away from uncinched, wide, open ankles. Roomy ankles work, but for me, still not into too wide. I may discredit this down the line. Prada Linea Rossa makes great ones, and Kiko Kostadinov’s are great too (pictured) and come in a couple colors so you can match them, like grey slacks and a blue blazer. These Nikes are good, but loud. And Nike Cav Empt’s are shockingly like, the trackie ideal? The best thing CE has done. Another sign of how odd an age we live in. Thank you Hank.
Brian asks:
Write about record collecting, any genre.
I collected records then got to college and stopped and spent my money on clothes. Clothes and sneakers. What a mistake. I have records still. When I moved to New York I brought them so I would never move back home. But I don’t flip through them since I bought most of them back then. It’s not like I’m going to spend every Saturday morning listening to Under My Skin. I like spending money but I don’t seem to buy records regularly. I would compare the satisfaction of having the record you want to listen to and listening to it to finding good leftovers in the fridge when you’re hungry, or when the coffee shop on the corner isn’t sold out of their one edible pasty. Or when you just get to the store before it closes, like 20 minutes before it closes. Or finding a $20 bill as a bookmark in one of your many Robert Caro hardcovers. All low-level satisfactions, but real ones. There are all these stories about how Henry Rollins steady buys on Discogs, getting everything. Not millionaire stuff but steady. I think he is into harsh noise (lol). But who’s to judge? He’s interviewed in an old SPIN (I think) where he says he saved his money from movies and that’s why he drives a BMW. A red one. So you push a nice car and come home and records from Metroplex are waiting for you and then you go to work the next day. Not bad. Thanks Brian.
Haley asks:
Please rank the bootleg Bernie merch from first to worst.
I spent like two hours searching and digging around, and most of what I found is like execrable sub-mom-merch on Amazon, with nothing in the universe close to an important or even tolerable design. That is good. I certainly like the candidate and his policies enough to stick my neck out (some of my readers and friends were critical—that is on them) and he has a really pacifying vocal register, but it ends there. Cults of personalities and fandom created around politicians are as aesthetically rough as the types of bootleg shirts sold online of the guy right now. Coincidence? I don’t know why so many of these shirts are so bad. Maybe because it’s hard to design something simple and alive in a digital graphics editor. None of the Sanders shirts I’ve seen look hand-drawn. They look like a church pamphlet. I think buttons are better for political candidates anyways. I would tie all the shirts in dead last, in a big tie, with a button that says VOTE SANDERS in red white and blue (or maybe burnt orange for Texas, etc.) taking first place.
That said we’re early in the election cycle. Sanders had an amazing birding moment in 2016: maybe lightning catches fire again and someone does a shirt whose design isn’t abhorrent, it takes off and helps with votes. I think we can lift the embargo on statist art until November if it’s for the right cause. Why not? I think the ideal for promotional political art is like, Milton Glaser type design—not my favorite stuff but certainly the best way to advance a popular idea across and have it not be objectively hideous. Glaser is still kicking, maybe he would do it. I am sure there is a lot I’m not thinking of. Also there is this Anya Davidson Bernie shirt. She says she did it “for the Power Trip fans,” the Dallas metal band. If you are into the candidate, why not. Davidson’s comix books are pretty good and Power Trip are hardest out. Thank you Haley.
Mikayla asks:
Write about the 1994 Prince interactive video game and the interior design in Belly.
Just finding out about this video game now. I guess Prince Interactive is a CD-Rom he made in 1994 that could be played on Mac or PC. The object of the game is to hang around Prince’s house. The CD-Rom came out with six unreleased songs, which is one of the better-considered limited edition music releases out there. The only way Prince could have made his music less available than this CD-Rom would be to press a split 7” with Agothocles. Did he? Looking around at gameplay clips on YouTube the graphics hold up, and are on the nose. You can unlock rooms in his house and see his handcuffs or listen to speeches from Eric Clapton. It is a first-person game and not a sidescroller. There is also a David Bowie CD-Rom, called Jump.
As for Belly, the furniture in Tommy’s house isn’t as impressive as when I saw it the first time. Not a single important piece. Maybe some lighting but I can’t distinguish it. But Knowledge’s walls have the same color paint as Jackie Brown’s record room when Max Cherry visits. Belly came out a little bit after JB so it’s no coincidence the sets are speaking to each other.
Thanks Mikayla.
Daniel T. asks:
Write about Eastern European/former Soviet youth subcultures, or their offshoots in the US, any era.
There are a handful: dandies (1910s, into poetry and looking good), Narodniki (fifty years before that, into the aristocracy, and looking good), Stilyagi (looking good, ‘40s-‘60s) hippies, Teddy Boys. I like Stilyagi and Teddy Boys best since they tie close to mods, suedeheads and skinheads, the stylish British subcultures of the same era. Both like church pants, sweating through nice shirts, biking around. The British subcultures make sense, since there are tailors there. But less sure about Soviet Russia: Where did they get their nice pants? Ties? How’d this stuff wind up there? Was everyone in the subculture rich? A thief? Unsureties abound.
Chic (Moscow 1967). Formal dress in youth subculture serves a great function, since the more you wear a suit the more comfortable you become in formal clothing and the easier it is to get ahead in life. I don’t know about Russian subculture offshoots here in America. Maybe smoking cigarettes shirtless outside when it’s really cold out, or squatting right when you get somewhere and have to wait a few minutes, or dill-whipping. That’s when you whip your friends with giant pieces of shellacked dill. Thanks Daniel.
Jay asks:
Write about Katamari Damacy.
Katamari Damacy is the best video game of all time(1). Thank you Jay.
Vinnie asks:
Write about the Cro-Mags.
I used to think Cro-Mags’ first full length record “Age of Quarrel” was the rare piece of art that stayed undiminished as its creators made missteps. But now I think good art stays unblanched despite an artist's missteps, unless they do things on the level of Bill Cosby. I like the people who like the Cro-Mags’ demo more than the album. It is not a stance discussed much these days but it was very divisive when I was young. This article by Sam McPheters (from Men’s Recovery Project) about the record is the best thing McPheters has done and the best writing on the subject, I think. I don’t have many thoughts really these days. The art in the article is so bad that it’s almost impressive. What a record, Mamma Mia. Thank you Vincent.
Becky asks:
Write about John Sterling.
There is a John Sterling sine curve, with the X axis time spent listening to Yankee games and the Y axis how much you enjoy John Sterling. Actually it is a cosine curve, which starts at high value right away (sine is zero right away). This is because initially one likes him a lot—since you’re a child—but then grows out of it because he’s an objectively … unhelpful announcer, then coming back to an appreciation because of the timbre of his voice and the charm of his … enthusiasm. It’s baseball!
I think it’s also a cosine curve during any home run call. His voice—great—is the first part of the curve, high up. Then, when it’s about to happen, “it is high, it is far, it is gone”—it’s less great, but not that bad, and by the end of the high and far call, it’s really enjoyable. Then the cosine hits rock bottom when Sterling goes for something and misses—“Higashioka, the home run stroker"—or gets even higher when he’s inspired:
There’s a shambling, sloppy nature to Sterling’s calls that works because it’s for the Yankees: he both denigrates their whole operation and makes them charming. Nothing about the Yankees is charming really. Nothing has been. Except that they keep him around. Why does he place the emphasis on THE? He does. It works since it’s not about skill, but tenor and tempo and cadence. He announces off the play, and he’s so delayed, he lets you call the game, since he’s not a practical announcer, but an echoing one. He’s inept in all the ways that matter except one.
Also there’s something satisfying about listening to a season of Yankees baseball and his calls changing. “Ballgame over! The Yankees win.” The only good thing about the Yankees winning the World Series is when John Sterling says “Ballgame over, World Series over, Yankees win, Thuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Yankees win.” The rarest five syllables in sport. It’s never a good thing when they win it all, but it sounds good. Thanks Becky.
Gil asks:
Can you write about either Neil Young , Alistair Crowley , Bryon Gysin, 12-string guitars or Beanie Babys.
I like 12-string guitars and don’t know what makes the extra six strings worth it. Maybe the guitar is twice as loud. I like 18-string guitars more—those are the guitars that have two necks, like Led Zeppelin used, and which was also in a photo of Murphy’s Law in one of their records. One of those guitars has 12 strings. The Byrds used 12-string guitars, and they are better than either of those bands, but sometimes it’s more about looks, and the 18-string guitars look cooler than 12-string guitars, even though Stephen Stills … actually, I shouldn’t talk about Stephen Stills.
Some people have benchmarks for success that they work their whole lives towards. Like how James Carrey wrote himself a $10 million check when he was down and out and cashed it later when he was rich. Some people put a piece of paper on the wall that says OSCAR or RENTAL INCOME on it. For me, for a while, success meant having enough cash to buy the Gibson double-necked guitar, the EDS-1275, in tobacco, that’s been on my eBay watch list for at least 15 years. I’ve had the money, but the guitar just never felt worth it. Every 29 days it would land at the top of my eBay list and I would be faced with a choice. Will I buy it? Will anyone? Maybe measuring success as the ability to buy something expensive and superfluous for no reason is not the best bar. Of course that’s not what success is. Over the course of writing this brite I have readjusted my parameters for success—which I won’t discuss here. Thank you Gil.
Maya asks:
Write about Mallomars.
Mallomars are a limited chocolate/marshmallow cookie that is heavily available in New York. They are only really for sale in the winter. They’re produced in Toronto, but not sold in Canada. The best flavor is raspberry. This is a funny video from Conan O’Brien about them:
This is the best monologue I have ever listened to in my life. He makes Spalding Gray look like Bob Newhart. I once saw Pierre Bernard walking around Union Square and am still shook about it. I never ask readers to click links but I think this one is worth clicking. Man it is good. I would be happy to ship some to you. Thank you Maya.
Nat asks:
Write about the interest overlap between my friends Matt and Ben and how they are in competition to not be friends with me.
Nat’s two close friends, Ben and Matt, don’t appear to immediately have a ton in common. They do different things for a living and spend their time differently. But they both bought cars in the last month. I forget what make Ben’s car is, I was in it last week, but Matt drives an Chevy Equinox. And they both like philly cheesesteak egg rolls: I don’t know anyone else who does. This random cluster of similarity created two questions: Do Ben and Matt have more in common than car ownership and a shared taste for philly cheesesteak egg rolls? And is their friendship with Nat a thing they have in common? What if it wasn’t? (Do they like him.) I looked:
They have more in common than I thought.
I think they should race their cars. A good place for that would be the Ikea parking lot (Red Hook), which is only full of police some of the time. The winner of the race gets to never have to talk to Nat again. I like the idea of them having 20 things in common but not their friendship. Honestly I bet they both like Nat but that is the way to find out. Worst comes to worst it’s a drag race, which is always fun. I think Matt would win. Thanks Nat.
Mellany asks:
Write about having something named after you in New York—like a sandwich or a street.
This is the greatest honor any person can have after getting an obituary in The Economist. A ton of the streets in New York are obviously named after people from forever ago, many of them Dutch, some lawmen, some gentry, nearly all dead, which is all less cool than streets or corners named after more recent New Yorkers or people. But so many of the recent street dedications are middling. I think one of the Spin Doctors has a bridge named after him now. But it’s still an honor. Some city parks are named after people, like the one by me that’s named after a fireman, and WNYC Transmitter Park in Greenpoint, which is named after Steve Wnyc, a philanthropist from the neighborhood who also bred dogs.
All this pales compared to the honor in getting a sandwich named after you. Three roads lead here: loyalty, celebrity and death. Ordering sardines, onion, mustard and antipasti on a semolina roll every day for a decade helps future generations save their breath and just point to The Peter. (Mellany’s would be “sesame seeded bread, salami, swiss, grainy mustard and red onion.”) If you are a well-known athlete or actor and order a turkey sandwich with onions at the deli just once, they might name it after you. (You can’t turn around in Brooklyn Heights Deli without looking Sarah Jessica Parker dead in the eyes, there are so many photos of her in there. But no sandwiches yet.) The last way is if once in a while you get a tuna and hard-boiled egg panino and then die a terrible death. (Scaffolding fail?) Then they name it after you. There are exceptions: if you are named Nicky, the good ones are named after you to begin with. I also have to mention that City Subs sells peanut butter and jelly sandwiches now for $7. Now that I’ve lifted my boycott on that establishment, I think that sandwich could get a name.
Taxonomic snacks are less impressive if it’s one of those delis where every sandwich is named after some famous person. “I would like the Telly Savalas, no olive spread, and a Pope Celestine II with extra vinegar.” No way, Jack. You can’t buy glory. But you can buy a bench at Central Park. It’s only $10,000. Absolutely better than a car. Don’t name the bench after yourself, and adopt it while the person you want to name it after is still with you, in your graces. Then you can sit on it together during birding season and share a Mies van der Rohe (that’s what the City Subs peanut butter sandwich is called) and knock some kestrels off your list. Thank you Mellany.
TP asks:
Can you write about the Johnson City tournaments.
The Johnson City tournament is the original one-pocket pool tournament in the city of the same name, outside Chicago. It started in 1961 a month after The Hustler came out, which starred Paul Newman and the guy from The Honeymooners (not Ed, the other guy). I thought in Scorsese’s The Color of Money they go to Johnson City, but they don’t. They go from Chicago to Atlantic City. It also feels like when Richard Kimball (The Fugitive) gets out of jail, his friend from jail lives in Johnson City. He doesn’t. I watched The Color of Money this week and am not sure if Fast Eddie (Paul Newman) is Catholic God to Vincent’s (Tom Cruise) Jesus or if Eddie is Jesus to Vincent’s people. Has to be one or the other.
There’s a great Sports Illustrated feature from 1977 which mentions the tourney. I like the idea of a small town being annually overrun by people abroad who live for whatever it is goes on there for one weekend. Maybe that’s what Davos is. Amsterdam Billiards on 4th Avenue in Manhattan is one of the best places in the city. Here are some tips from a middling player. If you keep your eyes and body at ball level, and hit the cue ball softly on the center, and follow through with your eyes and your cue, you will be good enough after a couple games to keep up if you stay present. Anything past that involves skill and time. Thank you TP.
Doug asks:
Write about movies.
Here is a movie review:
Rainy Dog (Miike, 1997) (watched on Sunday)
The second film of the Black Society trilogy. I really hate the rain, more than any type of weather, and though it rains throughout this film, the killing scenes are more objectionable than the weather. That’s how violent it is. The scene where they dig up the bicycle is among the best scenes ever on a beach. The man in the trenchcoat with the two bags at the end of the film is dressed so well. Immaculately. I never really got carried away rooting for the Rainy Dog. Maybe that is on me. I wish Takashi Miike had a different leitmotif than "dead pig," since they seem to be in all his films I have seen. Of all the things in the universe to pick, why does he choose the worst one? How many pigs does he need to kill to get his point across? But who am I to judge. Thank you Doug.
Ned asks:
Can you write about Brian Eno’s Oberheim synth?
Ned says his friend Jean was selling an Oberheim synth Brian Eno used. I don’t think he used one. I mean I am sure he did a few times, but you know. Eno was mostly known for using the DX7, a Yamaha(2), and the Moog Modular. Vintage Synth Explorer, a clearinghouse site on old synths, said he used the Oberheim Echoplex, which is a rackmount ‘90s synth. The echoplex pic made me think of Gerald Donald and James Stinson’s rackmount MKS-80, one of the most powerful synths there is. Gerald Donald is a better and more important musician than Brian Eno, and he should be richer than him too. But that’s not the way the world works. Eno’s biographer, Eric Tamm, wrote:
The main synthesizers Eno has worked with are the EMS Model AKS, Yamaha CS-80, Yamaha DX7, Arp 2600, Korg Micropreset, and Yamaha YC-45D organ.
I love Eno, who doesn’t? Jean thinks the Oberheim he sold was the one Van Halen recorded “Jump” on, which is the OB-Xa. Thank you Edward.
Salem asks:
Can you write about bicycles.
I can write that the bicycle has to be the greatest invention in human history after, I don’t know, the heart defibrillator or the vaccine or milk pasteurization or the rice cooker or the Tamiya Clodhopper. There’s the old chestnut about how humans are as efficient as birds of prey on a bike and slugs off it. It’s true. Even bike fashion subcultures (tiny hats) are chill too, because biking is so great. It’s mean to find fault with people connecting with being on a bike. Who cares how they look?
I can write that biking is great even when it’s really cold out and I’m coming back from the gym and have to wear my Marmot-Opening Ceremony facemask, which shouldn’t be worn in public but have to because it’s that cold out, and am covered in sweat, because why else would I be at the gym. At least I am on my bike. It is a shame you can’t get buried with your bicycle, because I would. My bike (pictured) is a Kilo TT (her name is Bruiser) that I bought off a bike messenger who got hit by a truck and had to sell his third bike to pay for his hospital bills. Under Sanders I wouldn’t have profited off his indignity. The messenger upgraded the parts and they are going well for me so far. The Kilo TT is the best cheap single-speed upgradeable bike that isn’t super expensive or too cheap for regular use. I think of it as the 501, or the La Creuset, or Wilson ProStaff (Original 6.0), of bikes. Is it? Maybe. Doesn’t matter. People ride cheaper bikes that are just as life-affirming, and more expensive ones, too. You can bike for nearly nothing or for a lot of money, and there’s no wrong way to. As is apparent, I don’t have much to say about bikes except how great they are. Not a lot better. Thank you Salem.
A forest in Vermont. Thanks to everyone who donated to my preferred candidate, and thanks to everyone for reading. Thanks again.
Snake
(1) non-side scrolling, non-arcade, post-1993
(2) Edgar Froese (from Tangerine Dream) used a DX7 too.