Universal Donor
We can ill afford
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You are just a number
to me! And that number
is:

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PAGES UD MADE:

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My Books Page

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My Reviews Page

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My Reference Page

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My Music Page

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My Pictures

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My Store

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UD-RELATED PAGES:

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My LiveJournal

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My MySpace music page

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My Flickr page

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My del.icio.us page

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My Last.fm page

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My Amazon Wishlist

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HEAVY ROTATION

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Dan Deacon:
Bromst
Animal Collective:
Merriweather Post Pavillion
Bon Iver:
For Emma, Forever Ago
Vampire Weekend:
Vampire Weekend
Fleet Foxes:
Fleet Foxes

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BLOGS ETC

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claude le monde
nuncstans
rock 'em stock 'em
tomato nation
postmodern drunkard
tuckova 22
ghastly mess
constintina
total virility
fuzzysquid
drunken bee
stacey nightmare
elyse from ANTM
stereolabrat
dark side points
jf_franklin
123 i love you READ NOW
brotherhood 2.0

NOT BLOGS ETC

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qwantz (dinosaur comix)
go fug yourself
the burg
cat and girl
book of ratings
married to the sea
icanhascheezburger
fire joe morgan
fivethirtyeight.com
READ NOW
hospitality on parade

WEIRD LOVE

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dead amusement pks
craters!

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all content
© 2002-2010
Jeremy Broomfield

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PRAISE & REVIEWS

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"[UD] is a genius."
--Christian Oates

"[Claudia] is fucking awesome, and [UD] is a genius. And vice versa. You should all buy Fear Not."
--Tricia Howey



MOTTO

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egeo huic vigorum

MY WRESTLING NAME

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Titan Gently

MY PUNK NAME

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Razor Ection







WHO LINKS TO UD?

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• from Technorati
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and here's something
weird: my place
in Humor 3-space

  You didn't watch the MLB All-Star Game last night, and neither did I. Look: the world keeps on turning.
     I did, however, catch the national anthem, as performed by that cheeky highway pianist, Vanessa Carlton. I've seen better singers -- you know, actual singers -- falter in the face of so much reverb, so many different copies of themselves echoing back like ill-wishing sonic boomerangs. But VC was great. Beautiful. Really -- perfectly on pitch, perfectly. There was a cellist next to her, and the sound was really remarkable. Brava, brava.
     Of course it was also fake-ass fake. Staged, stupid, funky bunk. I've recorded enough music and listened to enough pop to be able to detect an Auto-Tuned vocal line in ten seconds. The camera spent a lot of time on blimps and flags and players' bowed heads, but whenever it deigned to show VC, she blocked our view of her mouth by handjobbing the mic. It was a CD, and she mis-synched some breaths and her mouth didn't open wide enough on the belted notes. Bogus. (To judge for yourself, go here and click on "the National Anthem" video link.)
     But I repeat: it was beautiful. I love the sound of singing computers. Makes me think of the future, the sparkly, cybernetic future, when "pain" will be a boogeyman in a bedtime story I tell my children from the comfort of my neoprene morphine harness. I got complicated chills that originated in my extremities and converged on my sacrum.
     Because yeah: nobody cares about fake anymore. Less than 15 years ago Milli Vanilli were shamed out of everything they had, but authenticity isn't what it used to be. Hell, even the illusion of authenticity isn't what it used to be! The mildly talented Carlton, slutting her arms around and pulling her hair back from her face like a nervous teenager (she's 22) didn't try hard enough to fool me (and who am I, dammnit, but your average hyperobservant armchair genius?), but she didn't have to fool me -- she just had to pretend to fool me. Sort of. She seemed kinda giggly about the whole affair. Like: "dude, I'm totally not singing this right now!" Yeah! You go, girl! Or grrl! Or whatever you are!
     Today, it's a non-story. "Hi, AP? Reuters? CBS News? New York Fucking Post Page Six?!? I have the scoop of the century! Anthem Faked! 'Synch it Ain't So, Ho!' Um... " (click) You don't have to be real. You don't have to have talent, and you only pay your dues to the union. All you need is money behind you, shoving you into vans and studios, onto stages and planes. Nobody wants the truth -- they want chills. Give me my chills, and the dessicated bodies of pop stars gone bye-bye! I need chills! And brains! BRAAAINNNS!
posted by Universal Donor 2:04 PM 0 comments

OTHER REVIEWS:
Scrabble NEW!

LATEST BOOK REVIEWS:
The Game
Moneyball
One-Upsmanship
Siddhartha

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You need the
Fear Not Guide to Life.
Buy it already. ($4)

Now available!
The Broomfield Variations CD
($10)

or go to The UD Store

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MY IMAGINARY GIRLFRIENDS

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Chan Marshall
Rotem of the IDF
Eleanor Friedberger
Amy Goodman
Bernardine Dohrn ('69)
Maya Rudolph
Joanna Newsom
Imogen Heap
Caroline Dhavernas

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Shana Rae Ray

DISALLOWED FOREVER

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"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!"
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"from whence"
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"...the exception that proves the rule"
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any use of the question "spit or swallow?"
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the phrase "drop trou"
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fake-o reviewer verbs:
"penned" for wrote
"helmed" for directed
"lensed" for whatever
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"expat"
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the euphemism
"passed away"
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pronouncing merci beaucoup as "mercy buckets!"
(see also: "grassy-ass!")

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PET PEEVES

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"confinscated"
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trying children "as adults"
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"drownded"
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misuse of reflexive pronouns, as when someone says "Please talk to Bob or myself." Come on people now. "Myself" is not just a fancy version of "me"! LEARN IT.
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tattoos in the Courier font
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any use of Comic Sans

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