I'm a Dweeb, and if you're here, you probably are too!
I don't remember what exactly made me take this particular pathway down memory lane, but I was recently re-introduced to a TV show from 10+ years ago that I had forgotten all about, Dweebs. It was a short-lived series (lasting just 10 episodes) that was apparently too far ahead of its time. I've read online reviews comparing this show to The Big Bang Theory (which did start out with a bunch of socially-retarded guys and a technically-retarded girl, but has evolved beyond its original premise into something barely watchable), but I think it bears a much closer resemblance to a BBC show that recently ended its run - The IT Crowd. While both shows are populated with technically-intelligent social misfits, BBT doesn't combine the attractive non-misfit in a work setting (as do both the ITC and Dweebs) and the obvious difference is the field of expertise of the misfits: rocket scientists vs. computer nerds.
As I've scoured the interwebs in pursuit of these phantom ten episodes, I've discovered something quite strange - they don't seem to exist anywhere on DVD. I can't find legit or bootleg versions. Just about any store that sells videos has almost every crappy TV show from the past 60 years on DVD (well, Target does, anyway). With the success of both BBT and IT Crowd - both of which are available on DVD - the omission of Dweebs seems odd.
The only episode, s01e01, that I've been able to find was actually on Youtube in three pieces, so here it is in all its low-resolution glory as a single video file:
Be patient - it takes a little while to load
I've been planning to mention other stuff (you'd think there would be plenty to blather on about since it's been almost a year since the last update), including my WonderCon trip and the stack of books I've acquired/read recently, but I just haven't felt particularly inspired to share. Maybe later. Or not.
I am, despite all rumors to the contrary, still alive. I just haven't seen or done anything I felt was really worth mentioning here for the past few months. But I actually left the house last week and did something a little different, so I figure it must be time to drone on and on about something nobody but me will ever care about. Hooray!
Oh, and I'll probably be doing a little rambling about books and other stuff here, too. Aren't you a lucky duck?
So...last week's exciting event: I saw The Voice Season 1 almost-winners Dia Frampton and Xenia at the good ol' House of Blues in dirty, homeless-ridden, and garbage-strewn downtown San Diego. Scars on 45 was there, too, but I'd never heard of them before the show and wasn't particularly inspired to seek out any of their stuff afterward (apologies to you die-hard fans - the volume of your appreciation was noted at the show, so I know you're out there).
Dia and Xenia are my favorite singers from either Season 1 or 2 of The Voice, so I was stoked when the little woman actually wanted to go (well, she saw in the newspaper two days before that the show was sold out and said something like, "Gee, it's too bad we can't see this show...it's sold out", so maybe she was just making conversation, but I took it as a challenge). Since I hadn't even heard about the show until the week of, I had to resort to CraigsList for tickets. But I found a guy who won the tickets from a radio station contest and sold them to me for less than Ticketmaster would have, so that worked out.
"So," you ask, "how were the performances of these fabulous singers I've never heard of?"
Well, gentlereader, in the face of your burning interest, I will tell you all about the show in way more detail than any sane person could ever possibly desire...
The first act of the night was Xenia. If you're unfamiliar with her voice, you can easily enough watch videos of her singing all over Youtube. And you should watch them all. She's great. She only sang five or six songs and was finished with her set way too soon. One of the songs was a Neon Trees cover and one was an unreleased track from an upcoming album - the others were all on her EP (digital only, so cavemen like me who prefer to buy CDs are stuck downloading from Amazon).
For the record, Xenia sounds as good live as she does "live" (you never know what magic is being added to the audio when you're listening to someone sing "live" on a TV show, on an album, or even in a Youtube video). And I was surprised by how cute she is in person (she just didn't see that above-average in the videos or on TV). She's an itty-bitty little thing.
Next up, Scars on 45 sang a bunch of songs. And talked with the audience who all seemed to be really into them. I wasn't familiar with any of their stuff, so I waited patiently for their set to end...
Dia Frampton has been singing and touring with her sister for about ten years. I don't know if being on The Voice made any difference to her touring schedule, but you can definitely tell she's got a well-honed gig. She interacts well with the audience, joking and telling stories (one of which led into a cover of Losing My Religion). She's every bit as cute as Xenia and knows how to engage her audience. One of the funnier bits was when she brought a "random" guy from the audience (I don't know if he really was random) up on stage top sing a Flight of the Conchords song (Most Beautiful Girl in the Room). It sounds like this is something she does at all her shows, so I guess it isn't that original, but it was still really funny. Who doesn't like a good Flight of the Conchords cover? All told, Dia sang three or four covers and probably five of her own songs. And she did put on a really good show (even if she doesn't have a drummer - which was weird).
Here are some really poorly focused photos from the show. Sadly, these are the most-focused of the many, many I took. Most of them are of Xenia.
I was going to get really boring and talk about a few books I've read recently (and how I'm re-reading HHG for the millionth time after listening to the entire radio show - just the DNA version - in my car twenty times and noticing new things). But I don't feel like it anymore. So buzz off. Make like a tree and get outta here. Scram!
Sorry, Ms. Clack. I've been making slow progress through the pile of books that has been sitting on my reading shelf forever (many for several years), but I haven't bothered to mention any of them - until now. So here's the list of what I've recently read: George RR Martin's A Dance with Dragons, Terry Prarchett's Snuff, SM Sterling's The Tears of the Sun, Edgar Rice Burroughs's Return to Mars (collecting Thuvia, Maid of Mars, The Chessmen of Mars, and The Master Mind of Mars), Lev Grossman's The Magician King, and - most recently - The Reluctant Fundamentalist. This last one seemed especially noteworthy to me for one reason - I heard echoes of Albert Camus in my tiny little brain as I read it. So I'm going to encourage all of you to read it, too (especially if you have an appreciation for Camus).
The Reluctant Fundamentalist
I was struck, from the first sentence of The Reluctant Fundamentalist, by how similar it was to an Albert Camus first person monologue. From the first sentence, I found myself comparing it to The Stranger (since I've read that one a dozen times), but later found that Mohsin Hamid actually modeled his novel on Camus's The Fall. Since it has been about a million years since I read The Fall, that comparison didn't even occur to me. If you appreciate the straightforward austerity of Camus's writing, you'll find this novel interesting.
But even if you aren't a fan of Camus or are just unfamiliar with his stuff, this book may hold a nugget or two worth digging up. Despite what the cover image and the title led me to believe about this book before having read a single word, it is not about recruiting terrorists or any kind of jihadist activity. The "fundamentalist" in the title may refer to several things throughout the story, but none of them really relates to being an Islamic knucklehead.
I've acquired the bad habit of dogearing pages as I read books and come across anything I think might be interesting on its own to another reader. And there were several of those in The Reluctant Fundamentalist, but in hindsight most of them don't stand on their own as well as I thought they would. Here's one that does:
Our situation is, perhaps, not so different from that of the old European aristocracy in the 19th century, confronted by the ascendance of the bourgeoisie. Except, of course, that we are part of a broader malaise afflicting not only the formerly rich but much of the formerly middle-class as well: a growing inability to purchase what we previously could.
Confronted with this reality, one has two choices: Pretend all is well, or work hard to restore things to what they were. I chose both. At Princeton, I conducted myself in public like a young prince, generous and carefree. But I also, as quietly as I could, held down three on-campus jobs — in infrequently visited locations, such as the library of the Program in Near Eastern Studies — and prepared for my classes throughout the night.
That's not to say this is the only quote-worthy passage in the book. It provides a glimpse from the outside of America's Imperialist activities (the author is a Princeton educated Pakistani as is the book's protagonist, so the book may just be a little bit autobiographical), the precariousness of one's social/financial position in society, the challenges of being an outsider, and the difficulties of being involved with a person who has debilitating mental health issues.
My one complaint is the ending - it's painfully abrupt. And to me, unsatisfying. But maybe that's the beauty of the story and I'm just too obtuse to appreciate it.
I'm currently reading The Windup Girl and finding myself comparing it to the works of Kim Stanley Robinson (I've only read one) and Phillip K Dick (I've read many of Dick's books). Interesting, but I'm having a hard time getting very involved in it. But I'm only about 20 pages in, so maybe it will grab me later.
And since I mentioned my humiliation at the Grossman books signing, here are the sad details (sad if you're me, which I happen to be)...
After Lev Grossman finished reading from his (then) new book, The Magician King, and answered a few questions, we - the eager fans - lined up and waited for our turn to get our shiny new copies of the aforementioned book signed.
As I waited in line, I had flashbacks to may other embarrassing moments at book signings I had perpetrated: Gene Wilder, Neil Gaiman, Tim Powers - my awkwardness knows no bounds. So I mentally rehearsed what I would say when I got to the end of the line to get my book signed. I would be cool, I would be smart, I wouldn't say anything stupid.
But this is what actually happened:
I walked up to the table Lev was sitting behind, laid my book before him and said, "Brett."
Lev's response, "Excuse me?"
My smooth reply, "Name's brett."
"Oh, do I know you? Are we Facebook friends?"
"Nope. I loathe facebook."
It didn't get any better from there.
The part that is the most funny is how Lev signed my book.
"This book is for Brett". Ugh. I didn't even notice what he'd written until I got home. I'm a dork.
My family laughed at me for days when I told them how retarded I am.
