w00t w00t booyah

I preordered it. I preorder a set number of things, because I'm a creature of habit and eternally hopeful. I can be incredibly picky about what I read or listen to - and when something 'hits' - it usually leaves a mark. One that makes me preorder the next thing. And the thing after that.

That's a very short and insufficient reason why I have nearly everything Barry Manilow ever released. I have a friend who goes back even further than I do who had the foreign language stuff - everything sung phonetically, you can imagine (Copacapana on a 16" in Spanish, sung phonetically, come on) among other things - so I at least know my deficits. So to speak. Somehow, this is one of those things that just happened while I wasn't paying attention.

Oh, that's nice. So, you buy it and preorder the next thing.

A little after the turn of the century, I started getting slapped around. Concord Records stopped releasing, Arista came back and wanted to make money and the karaoke albums came - one decade after another.

Let me tell you something. You learn patience this way. You also learn the configuration of the underside of your desk, because you spend a heck of a lot of time there hiding in shame. Well. Earned. Shame.

Quickly - the Fifties album? Frisbee. The Sixties album? Download the nicest little turn on two Association tunes I've ever heard - JUST THAT ONE - off iTunes or Amazon. 'Strangers in the Night' is a carryover from the Sinatra album (yes, there is one) BUY IT. It's amazing. The Seventies album? This one had a disc of bonus material that made it worth the trip - but now, you can't get it. An acoustic version of Copacapana that sounds completely different (and this one has been re-mixed to death, can you blame them?) - guitars and drums and pure hammered awesome. A remix of 'Could It Be Magic' worth the trip. But now you can't get it. The actual disc? Frisbee. The Eighties album? Well, being Manirolled is fun, I guess. The rest? FRISBEE.

Those four albums are testament to the adage 'perfect is BORING.' Because? You can hear every syllable, notes are consistent and the arrangements are adequate. You can almost hear the plodding through the traces to another sold out hit.

And then they started re-releasing material on 'new' collections. There's one of duets, one for love songs. Holy chrome, I've already BOUGHT it. You really begin to wonder if 'hit' means you're about to get slapped upside the head again.

'Here At The Mayflower' was such an incredible album - but that's almost ten years ago now. (Buy the UK version and anything that says Bonus Disk? You want that too.) There's the commute album - a musical novel - the podcast without dialog. The story of a building where people live. And die. Hide from their pasts, long for love, escape from themselves while the music plays. It's also witty, funny as hell and I bought it at least four times. Do not expect to hear this on tour - it's not the kind of thing that plays to a stadium.

I so wanted another one like it. Instead, I have to suck it up for another Unchained Melody.

That shit's over.

Guess what I got yesterday - and as of today, so can everyone else. 15 Minutes is out. And it got the drive in treatment via iPod this morning. I am absolutely gobsmacked.

Barry Manilow has filked the whole music business. And pulled no punches.

First of all, I've been having a wonderful run of luck with cover albums, songs I didn't write. I had five pop cover albums and two Christmas albums, and they were all very successful. But I did miss writing. So I looked around, and what I saw was a lot of young people becoming famous very quickly, overnight. I've done three "American Idols," and it was an amazing thing to watch these young talented people becoming household names within months. And I remember when I got hit with it, with "Mandy," that I was an adult. And yet when "Mandy" hit, it knocked me for a loop. It turned me into a person I didn't like.

So what does this guy do? Writes a whole album about it.

Thought I would hate it. Thought I would be bored senseless by it. Thought it wouldn't apply or resonate.

I was singing at the top of my lungs before I reached the office.

Here's another commute album. A podcast without narration. The musical with no stage required. I don't know anything else out there right now like it.

It's the album for us old farts who are dead tired of hearing it one more time and have more years on us - we appreciate music that speaks to those years, believe me. They didn't pass in a vacuum - it's not just the story of the beginning and 'getting over' - no, this is more. What happens after, and after that.

And all of it important, valid and critical - worthy of telling, both as a warning and a tribute.

I don't think I've ever heard anything quite as creepy as 'Letter From A Fan / So Heavy, So High' - yup, a Manilow song that incorporates fan mail. Amaaaazing.

It IS love songs. No, it's NOT. It's huge playing to the stands - no, not exactly.

Ghad, look at the album design. Not a picture to be found. AWESOME.

It's also a direct sale, too. Arista? Not in the picture, but it's clear this is the record Manilow wanted to make, as much as he wanted Mayflower. Nope, don't have to please anyone - so this one's for you, guys.

Love isn't always kind, you know. And while you are working towards Your Dream - don't forget to hang on to what lasts, and what's really important. Words from a friend.

I am so insanely proud right now. And saying good-bye to the underside of my desk.

I preordered it. I preorder a set number of things, because I'm a creature of habit and eternally hopeful. I can be incredibly picky about what I read or listen to - and when something 'hits' - it usually leaves a mark. One that makes me preorder the next thing. And the thing after that.

That's a very short and insufficient reason why I have nearly everything Barry Manilow ever released. I have a friend who goes back even further than I do who had the foreign language stuff - everything sung phonetically, you can imagine (Copacapana on a 16" in Spanish, sung phonetically, come on) among other things - so I at least know my deficits. So to speak. Somehow, this is one of those things that just happened while I wasn't paying attention.

Oh, that's nice. So, you buy it and preorder the next thing.

A little after the turn of the century, I started getting slapped around. Concord Records stopped releasing, Arista came back and wanted to make money and the karaoke albums came - one decade after another.

Let me tell you something. You learn patience this way. You also learn the configuration of the underside of your desk, because you spend a heck of a lot of time there hiding in shame. Well. Earned. Shame.

Quickly - the Fifties album? Frisbee. The Sixties album? Download the nicest little turn on two Association tunes I've ever heard - JUST THAT ONE - off iTunes or Amazon. 'Strangers in the Night' is a carryover from the Sinatra album (yes, there is one) BUY IT. It's amazing. The Seventies album? This one had a disc of bonus material that made it worth the trip - but now, you can't get it. An acoustic version of Copacapana that sounds completely different (and this one has been re-mixed to death, can you blame them?) - guitars and drums and pure hammered awesome. A remix of 'Could It Be Magic' worth the trip. But now you can't get it. The actual disc? Frisbee. The Eighties album? Well, being Manirolled is fun, I guess. The rest? FRISBEE.

Those four albums are testament to the adage 'perfect is BORING.' Because? You can hear every syllable, notes are consistent and the arrangements are adequate. You can almost hear the plodding through the traces to another sold out hit.

And then they started re-releasing material on 'new' collections. There's one of duets, one for love songs. Holy chrome, I've already BOUGHT it. You really begin to wonder if 'hit' means you're about to get slapped upside the head again.

'Here At The Mayflower' was such an incredible album - but that's almost ten years ago now. (Buy the UK version and anything that says Bonus Disk? You want that too.) There's the commute album - a musical novel - the podcast without dialog. The story of a building where people live. And die. Hide from their pasts, long for love, escape from themselves while the music plays. It's also witty, funny as hell and I bought it at least four times. Do not expect to hear this on tour - it's not the kind of thing that plays to a stadium.

I so wanted another one like it. Instead, I have to suck it up for another Unchained Melody.

That shit's over.

Guess what I got yesterday - and as of today, so can everyone else. 15 Minutes is out. And it got the drive in treatment via iPod this morning. I am absolutely gobsmacked.

Barry Manilow has filked the whole music business. And pulled no punches.

First of all, I've been having a wonderful run of luck with cover albums, songs I didn't write. I had five pop cover albums and two Christmas albums, and they were all very successful. But I did miss writing. So I looked around, and what I saw was a lot of young people becoming famous very quickly, overnight. I've done three "American Idols," and it was an amazing thing to watch these young talented people becoming household names within months. And I remember when I got hit with it, with "Mandy," that I was an adult. And yet when "Mandy" hit, it knocked me for a loop. It turned me into a person I didn't like.

So what does this guy do? Writes a whole album about it.

Thought I would hate it. Thought I would be bored senseless by it. Thought it wouldn't apply or resonate.

I was singing at the top of my lungs before I reached the office.

Here's another commute album. A podcast without narration. The musical with no stage required. I don't know anything else out there right now like it.

It's the album for us old farts who are dead tired of hearing it one more time and have more years on us - we appreciate music that speaks to those years, believe me. They didn't pass in a vacuum - it's not just the story of the beginning and 'getting over' - no, this is more. What happens after, and after that.

And all of it important, valid and critical - worthy of telling, both as a warning and a tribute.

I don't think I've ever heard anything quite as creepy as 'Letter From A Fan / So Heavy, So High' - yup, a Manilow song that incorporates fan mail. Amaaaazing.

It IS love songs. No, it's NOT. It's huge playing to the stands - no, not exactly.

Ghad, look at the album design. Not a picture to be found. AWESOME.

It's also a direct sale, too. Arista? Not in the picture, but it's clear this is the record Manilow wanted to make, as much as he wanted Mayflower. Nope, don't have to please anyone - so this one's for you, guys.

Love isn't always kind, you know. And while you are working towards Your Dream - don't forget to hang on to what lasts, and what's really important. Words from a friend.

I am so insanely proud right now. And saying good-bye to the underside of my desk.

I don't have the sexy attractiveness of a Water spirit, the light and free nature of Air or the hot-tongued frisson of Fire. To be blunt, I'm rather boring.

My element is Earth, sad to say. Come on, who'd admit to that? It's DIRT, for crying out loud.

I remain very grounded, stubborn and sure of myself (if only to myself) and my temper is hard to raise (but once it is, it can be as sudden and violent as a volcanic eruption, and just as destructive). I am where things go to die. In some cases, to be reborn into something new - providing a fertile place to grow, develop and move on. But in some cases, I am only where things go to end, in the hope that something better will come along.

Hey, you have to play to your strengths.

I've been keeping a journal here since 2002 - and some people, like seanan_mcguire have been on my friends list almost since its inception. Seanan was getting ready for BayCon, wrote about mishaps with Nair and I was hooked. Yes, she's THAT good. In the past year, I admit to no little amount of 'I could have told you that' regarding the three books released, not to mention the myriad other wonders this year has produced (Campbell Award? Yup.) - give her a chance, the merest opportunity and she'll be fine. Awesome, in fact. Solid, heartfelt, amazing and did I mention on time, dead-nuts reliable? Hard work on top of steely resolve - and so very terribly human at the same time. It's all her, and it's wonderful to see such effort rewarded.

But then I turn to Cat Valente (yuki_onna) the words fail me. See, when I first 'met' Cat (when you find someone to add to your friends list - do you actually 'meet' them?) and began reading what she was willing to journal, I'd often sit back with my chin in my hand and wonder where her story was going to go. I remember her distinct and well-earned hatred of Japan (in the midst of all my twee J-Pop, Pocky-lovin' fangirls, it was refreshing to have 'yes, I lived there and I HATED it' as a touchstone, because let's face it, she said WHY and it was verifiable), I remember when she got Sage...I remember her as a military wife, defending that choice, and then when the journal went silent, I remember wondering when I would hear her voice again, and what it would say when I did.

See, what I want for you? I want you to be happy. And I don't mean giddy and self-absorbed. I mean happy - fulfilled, empowered, secure - happy.

Cat wasn't any of that when the journal went quiet. I wasn't privy to the details and frankly, I didn't need to be to tell it was a very sad, angry and unsettled time. At best.

So I would take a deep breath, hope I would hear soon. She had a tiny boat, and the seas were so big. Such resolve. And brave, dear ghads.

But what came out of it. Oh, my.

Cat has always had a unique, lyrical writing voice - she writes beautiful poetry and her prose is intricate, fantastic and unlike any other.

There had been books, before. But then, out of these sad times came a book called The Orphan's Tales...and then a second one. Then Palimpsest...and a wedding, which had its first anniversary today.

And today is also the release day for her Prester John book, Habitation of the Blessed, which I remember consuming her whole last year while she worked on it.

What little I've been able to see from here says that this is a very different Cat than the one I met those years ago, and thank whatever deity you wish - I certainly do.

Not only does she work faithfully, constantly and diligently - folks, this lady works smart. The Omikuji Project, the wonderfully web-based crowd-funded Fairyland - all done with an eye to paying the bills, keeping her family afloat and to keep writing as a profession.

I am all about the Getting Paid, folks. You may want to be the next Agatha Christie, but if you don't get paid, you don't get to stay around to find out if you were ever good enough to make it happen. Anyway -

The closest words to how I feel when I see this. They use the words 'I am so proud of you.' Well, hell. I had nothing to do with it.

I think I'm just loving what I see here. Some days, patience is rewarded in the most astounding ways. Good things DO happen to someone who deserved it, who remained strong in the face of the uncertain, and stayed on course.

And as far as I tell, she's happy.

I can only wonder what tomorrow is going to bring me, with her name on it. If I like it or I don't, if it's my cup of tea or it isn't doesn't matter. Look at what she's done and how far she came in such a short amount of time.

Good for you. Good. For. You.

Now have a wonderful book-release day, happy anniversary (it's mine too, my ninth) and all that.

See you later.

I don't have the sexy attractiveness of a Water spirit, the light and free nature of Air or the hot-tongued frisson of Fire. To be blunt, I'm rather boring.

My element is Earth, sad to say. Come on, who'd admit to that? It's DIRT, for crying out loud.

I remain very grounded, stubborn and sure of myself (if only to myself) and my temper is hard to raise (but once it is, it can be as sudden and violent as a volcanic eruption, and just as destructive). I am where things go to die. In some cases, to be reborn into something new - providing a fertile place to grow, develop and move on. But in some cases, I am only where things go to end, in the hope that something better will come along.

Hey, you have to play to your strengths.

I've been keeping a journal here since 2002 - and some people, like seanan_mcguire have been on my friends list almost since its inception. Seanan was getting ready for BayCon, wrote about mishaps with Nair and I was hooked. Yes, she's THAT good. In the past year, I admit to no little amount of 'I could have told you that' regarding the three books released, not to mention the myriad other wonders this year has produced (Campbell Award? Yup.) - give her a chance, the merest opportunity and she'll be fine. Awesome, in fact. Solid, heartfelt, amazing and did I mention on time, dead-nuts reliable? Hard work on top of steely resolve - and so very terribly human at the same time. It's all her, and it's wonderful to see such effort rewarded.

But then I turn to Cat Valente (yuki_onna) the words fail me. See, when I first 'met' Cat (when you find someone to add to your friends list - do you actually 'meet' them?) and began reading what she was willing to journal, I'd often sit back with my chin in my hand and wonder where her story was going to go. I remember her distinct and well-earned hatred of Japan (in the midst of all my twee J-Pop, Pocky-lovin' fangirls, it was refreshing to have 'yes, I lived there and I HATED it' as a touchstone, because let's face it, she said WHY and it was verifiable), I remember when she got Sage...I remember her as a military wife, defending that choice, and then when the journal went silent, I remember wondering when I would hear her voice again, and what it would say when I did.

See, what I want for you? I want you to be happy. And I don't mean giddy and self-absorbed. I mean happy - fulfilled, empowered, secure - happy.

Cat wasn't any of that when the journal went quiet. I wasn't privy to the details and frankly, I didn't need to be to tell it was a very sad, angry and unsettled time. At best.

So I would take a deep breath, hope I would hear soon. She had a tiny boat, and the seas were so big. Such resolve. And brave, dear ghads.

But what came out of it. Oh, my.

Cat has always had a unique, lyrical writing voice - she writes beautiful poetry and her prose is intricate, fantastic and unlike any other.

There had been books, before. But then, out of these sad times came a book called The Orphan's Tales...and then a second one. Then Palimpsest...and a wedding, which had its first anniversary today.

And today is also the release day for her Prester John book, Habitation of the Blessed, which I remember consuming her whole last year while she worked on it.

What little I've been able to see from here says that this is a very different Cat than the one I met those years ago, and thank whatever deity you wish - I certainly do.

Not only does she work faithfully, constantly and diligently - folks, this lady works smart. The Omikuji Project, the wonderfully web-based crowd-funded Fairyland - all done with an eye to paying the bills, keeping her family afloat and to keep writing as a profession.

I am all about the Getting Paid, folks. You may want to be the next Agatha Christie, but if you don't get paid, you don't get to stay around to find out if you were ever good enough to make it happen. Anyway -

The closest words to how I feel when I see this. They use the words 'I am so proud of you.' Well, hell. I had nothing to do with it.

I think I'm just loving what I see here. Some days, patience is rewarded in the most astounding ways. Good things DO happen to someone who deserved it, who remained strong in the face of the uncertain, and stayed on course.

And as far as I tell, she's happy.

I can only wonder what tomorrow is going to bring me, with her name on it. If I like it or I don't, if it's my cup of tea or it isn't doesn't matter. Look at what she's done and how far she came in such a short amount of time.

Good for you. Good. For. You.

Now have a wonderful book-release day, happy anniversary (it's mine too, my ninth) and all that.

See you later.

EA Games SO PW0ND...'Win For Sin' Runner-up? Oh, a guy. VERY much a guy. JUST NOT THEIR GUY.

While I'm grateful for the team 'randomly' choosing me as one of the runners-up for your #Lust contest, it seems as though the internet has once again made it difficult to relay tongue-in-cheek humor to the desired recipients. I became aware of your contest through one of the many blogs decrying it. I think the contest was somewhat sexist, misogynist, and exploitive, especially since you were sending fans upon ANY booth babe at SDCC; however, as a gay man, I also saw this PR stunt as missed opportunity that resulted in what appears to be a narrow minded view as to what your game's audience can truly be. While I'm not sure if it was intentional or not, this stunt projected a view of your target demographic as lustful heterosexual males, when in reality a larger and larger portion of the gaming population are women and LGBT people.

Funny thing is, just last weekend in the Bay Area, EA corporate put on an event with GLAAD [www.glaad.org] in which they were discussing homophobia in online communities. One of the major points brought up was that many game publishers/developers still have this "boys club" idea of who buys and plays their games. The truth is that there are many people out there that don't care to be in that type of boys club (as I'm sure you notice from all the negative tweets you got) and dislike that stereotype being thrown in their faces.

From that viewpoint, I sent in my photo of me with a burly man that I took at PAX last year as a humorous portrayal of how your contest is not only misogynistic and demeaning to the women that attended the conventions, but also to anyone that doesn't follow the hetero-normative ideal. I know booth babes (and guys) get paid to man those booths and deal with gawkers, but there are also PR, production, and development people at those booths caught in the crossfire of dealing with people trying to do "acts of lust" with them to win your contest.

And then he suggests what they can do with their $240.

(Hat tip to neintales. Oh very yes, I'd do his taxes. And make him cannoli.)