Time for your weekly edition of the Defector Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag. You can also read Drew over at SFGATE, and buy Drew’s books while you’re at it. Today, we're talking music books, living on the moon, the NCAAs, and more.
Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! I’ll always remember when I called it St. Patty’s Day online and everyone yelled at me that it’s “St. Paddy’s Day” not “Patty’s.” I despise the Irish now.
Your letters:
David:
Between your Funbag on 3/10 and your article about being a bookanizer, you mentioned some interesting books about music history. You mind listing some of the best musical history books you've read? Also, what was the 90's grunge scene book?
The '90s grunge scene oral history is titled Everybody Loves Our Town by Mark Yarm (NOT Mark Arm of Mudhoney), and it’s a blast to read until everyone died from heroin addiction at the end of it. 1990s Seattle wasn’t the happiest place in the world. As for the rest of them … listen, I love reading about bands. I’ve read the AllMusic reviews of my favorite albums multiple times over. If my Apple Music selection has a writeup to go with, I’ll read it. And I can read a good band book in a matter of hours. I’m not a professional nostalgia whore, but reading about these bands really does put me back in that time, and in that headspace. Like the music itself! I can’t get enough of that particular high. If you’re the same way, here are some books I loved far too much:
-Louder Than Hell, The Definitive Oral History Of Metal, by John Wiederhorn and Katherine Turman
-Van Halen Rising, by Greg Renoff
-I Want My MTV, by Rob Tannenbaum and Craig Marks
-Nothin’ But A Good Time: The Uncensored History of the '80s Hard Rock Explosion, by Tom Beaujour and Richard Bienstock
-Life, by Keith Richards
-Watch You Bleed by Stephen Davis (it’s a writearound but I’ll read anything about GNR)
That’s a pretty spare list, because I am a shitty reader. I still have a lot more of these books to test drive, including Hammer of the Gods. But I’ve found that they have to be about artists I’ve lived through. For example, I started in on Please Kill Me, which is an oral history of punk. And even though it’s got some truly wild shit in it—Iggy Pop blowing a snot rocket into his hand and eating it in front of women before they fuck—it all happened before my time. I also don’t listen to shit like the MC5, so the music parts don’t hit me quite the same. So I switched over to an oral history of Lollapalooza, because that’s part of my living memory.
That’s why the MTV book I listed above was such a good time. I grew up on MTV. Shit, MTV and I grew up together. I watched Dial MTV religiously, and I still sing the entire theme song to Remote Control in my head on a regular basis. So when I read that Downtown Julie Brown was hated by the rest of the MTV staff because she was, by her own admission, rude as shit to everyone, or that Simon Le Bon realized doing a bump of coke the morning of a video shoot made the shoot LESS fun, not more, or that Madonna wouldn’t fuck one of the MTV bigwigs because she knew he’d tell everyone about it—that’s a big fat dopamine hit.
The subjects of these books are often decades removed from the scene depicted, so they feel no obligation to mince words. They’re not gonna get in trouble for shitting on their bosses and their peers, because they can’t get in trouble for it. That means that I, the reader, am treated to stories that not only remind me of a past I lived through, but expand it and enrich it. I see the years more clearly, and feel the memories more strongly. Then I head down to my basement and blast “Hungry Like The Wolf” at top volume. It’s the best.
Brian:
I've been eating yogurt from little containers with fruit in them since the late 70s (not to brag). I've always mixed up the fruit and the yogurt so that I could get some fruit and some yogurt with each bite. Recently I tried not mixing the fruit and yogurt and I actually enjoyed the contrast. Which method of yogurt consumption do you prefer?
I actually remove the yogurt and then eat the fruit on the bottom.
In all seriousness, I’m a mixer. But I usually take it a few extra steps. I mix up a fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt and then wolf it down if I’m in a hurry. But if I have more time on my hands, I make my own slapdash parfait. I grab the big tub of plain yogurt from the fridge, then I dump a bunch of granola on it. Then I stir in a shitload of honey, jam, or both. Then I eat. Because yogurt is a scam. You don’t need the extra probiotics, and any yogurt you buy in this country is bound to have 57 grams of sugar in it anyway. So you might as well enjoy your yogurt if you’re eating it, because it’s only healthy if you eat it plain, which is a sickening idea. No matter the food, I require toppings.
To that end, I have a savory yogurt preparation that I do for lunch sometimes. I buy a tub of the full fat yogurt (or labneh if they have it at the store), and then I top it with coarse salt, pepper, za’taar, and a drizzle of olive oil. Then I toast up some flatbread and whoa hey did someone just teleport me to the isle of Mykonos? Homemade labneh is a quality yogurt option, just don’t count on losing 10 pounds after you’ve eaten it.
Jack:
In the March 10th Funbag, you point out that capitalism, "in the form of consolidation, monopolization, private equity, and David Zaslav’s taste in movies" is the primary driver behind the de-fanging of pop culture artists in America. As a socialist, I agree! I've been reading your work for 15 years or so, and I was surprised to see this in a Funbag, given that I believe in the past you've stated you tend to lean in favor of capitalism. Is this a sign that you're open to socialism as an economic alternative to capitalism? Have things changed for you at all in this area since the beginning of Trump 2? Let me know if you want to join my Marxist reading group :).
I’ll pass on the reading group, but that’s only because I’m a shitty reader. I’d hate to show up for discussion night having only read the first 10 pages of Das Kapital. That would take me directly back to my middle school days, when I attempted to lie my way through every assigned book report. As you might have guessed, this didn’t work. One time, during an oral exam, I literally opened up the book in front of my teacher to find the answer. I got a D.
Anyway, unrestricted capitalism is evil, so my goal is for the U.S. to be like Denmark, where public services are abundant but you can still make money if you want. We can get there one day, guys. I'll be dead when it happens, but still.
Beau:
Sorry, Drew, but I call BS. Like you, I graduated from a boarding school in NE and there’s simply no way the school, your parents or classmates let you apply to just one school. Even if the library at Michigan is named after your grandfather, PEA couldn’t risk not sending a graduate to college. It just doesn’t add up and it’s time to come clean. Your safety was Northeastern (back in the day it was much easier to get into) and we all deserve the truth.
I don’t remember saying that I applied to only one college. I said I only got into one college, and that was my safety (you’re supposed to call them “likelys” now) school: Michigan. Every other school negged me. Those schools were Cornell (early), Penn, Yale, and Middlebury. I should have aimed lower across the board, given that I had B- grades and zero extracurriculars outside of football. But I thought I was special. I also thought my football career would give me a boost, even though I’d been benched three games into my senior season.
I’m a dreamer by nature, to the point where I’ll dream a dream so many times that I come to think of it as destiny. So of course I aimed high, and of course I told my folks that the guidance counselor, who suggested my best chance at getting in anywhere was the University of Rochester, was a fucking idiot. Every guidance counselor thinks you should aim lower than Draymond Green’s fists. I wasn’t hearing that shit. I was Drew Magary, and greatness was always the plan for me. So, as a 17-year-old idiot, I pictured my future life at Cornell over and over again, to the point where I didn’t seriously consider any other reality. It would have been, in my eyes, a waste of time. Then I got rejected by everyone except Michigan, went to Michigan for one miserable semester, and then transferred to Colby, where I was less miserable for another three-and-a-half years.
JJ:
There are a million things of greater importance right now, but isn’t it weird there was originally a different Jake from State Farm?
Oh wow, there was! And it was in a good ad! We used to make things in this country.
Chip:
Why don’t we have RedZone for the NCAA tournament? I know it’s really just relevant for the first weekend and maybe the Sweet 16, and I’m sure the answer is rights issues, but wouldn’t that be awesome?
You must be younger than me Chip, because the opening weekend of tourney used to be broadcast only in RZC format. You could turn on CBS on Thursday afternoon and then, from there through Sunday, the late Greg Gumbel would toggle between all of the games for you. It fucking rocked. Then the suits at Viacom were like, “Not enough people know about the existence of Impractical Jokers! Let’s use the tourney to change that!” And with that, the fun machine took a shit and died. All of the games got spread across cable TV, and the days of Gumbel clicking around the tourney for you went away forever. Until next year, when Skydance reinvents its coverage with a new NCAA Shootaround channel that costs $175. Hosted by Ben Shapiro.
Michael:
If there were citizens of the Moon, would we call them Mooners, Moonies or some secret third option? I'm sure they'd want to be called Lunites or whatever, but fuck that.
I’d privately call them idiots, but yes our culture would call them Moonites or something boring like that. Even if I called them “aliens” as a kick, I’d get a tongue-lashing from my socialist book club. This world sucks at naming things now. Every new war is just The (country name) War. Every tragedy is named by its date (as someone born on 10/7, I greatly resent this). Every baby in Utah is named Raisyn. And every athlete’s nickname is just their initials. All of it is basic and shitty, which is why I’d prefer that bloggers like me now be referred to as Thought Gods from here on out. Just because everyone else sucks at naming shit doesn’t mean that I have to.
Adam:
For kitchen products like plastic wrap, aluminum foil, and parchment paper, do you want the blade positioned so you pull DOWN to cut a length? Or positioned so you must pull UP? The up-puller blades really throw me off.
Either way, I just want the blade to work. Because anytime I commit a dispensing error, I want to put the sawteeth to my own neck. Ever have a sheet of cling wrap get all fucked up and fold over on itself? There is literally no worse thing that can happen to a person, ever. I also hate parchment paper that curls up the second I lay it down on the cookie sheet. Have some discipline, paper. I’m trying to make some cookies here and you’re fucking it all up for me. Another time, I accidentally let the whole roll of tin foil fall out of the box and unspool onto the ground. Then I had to roll it back up, but the foil got all wrinkled and shit and I had to cram the roll back into the box and keep using it like nothing had happened. Again, the literal worst thing that can happen to a person. This is why I need a butler. A human one, because AI is wrong.
Brian:
On a previous Funbag or Distraction you said not to say, “let me know if I can help” to someone going through a difficult time because, if I remember correctly, you said that puts an extra burden on a stressed person to come up with a task for the well-meaning friend. I’m emailing to say I experienced this last week, when my young daughter was hospitalized (she’s since been discharged and is getting better). I was mentally and physically stretched so thin I didn’t have the capacity to reply with anything other than, “Uhh I’ll let you know.” These were many kind, well-meaning people offering to help, but it took all of my brainpower to keep abreast of my kid’s treatment, let alone give people a detailed reply. My question is, when someone says, “let me know if there’s anything I can do,” what are some quick stock things to ask for?
“I’ll let you know” is actually a good response, because you’re essentially telling the other person that you appreciate their kindness, but that you don’t really need anything right now. In times of crisis or grief, a lot of people just want to be left the fuck alone. So “I’ll let you know” is a proven way of getting the space you need.
Because most of the time, you won’t know what specific things you’ll need. Or it’ll be something that springs up unexpectedly. “Oh shit, my wife and I have to stay with Jenny at the hospital, but someone needs to go pick up our other kid from soccer practice!” It’s immediate shit like that, which can’t be handled by some childhood friend of yours who lives in another state. Or it’s big picture shit like, “We need a doctor who specializes in acute lupus!” which, again, a limited number of people can actually help with.
But there is one stock task you can give people, which I learned from my wife when I was hospitalized many years ago: gift cards. Gift cards are a throwaway gift in pretty much every other instance. But for the distraught, they’re useful because you don’t have to use right away. My wife’s friends chipped in to give her a bigass Seamless gift card when I had my accident, and it was a lifesaver for her. Yes I know Seamless is evil.
HALFTIME!
Tim:
I finally got around to watching This Is Spinal Tap after Rob Reiner was killed. I was a wee lad when it came out. Anyway, I watched it I have to admit, it wasn't the laugh riot I expected. Don't get me wrong, I laughed at parts. The speaker going to 11, Harry Shearer being trapped in the chrysalis, getting lost backstage, and Fred Willard were all funny parts. But I expected to laugh more. I actually found Fran Drescher and Paul Schaffer funnier in the new one than in the original. To be clear, I am not saying the movie sucked. I get why it's beloved. I get that it's objectively a good movie. I just didn't love it the way I do, say, The Princess Bride. Have you ever had a similar experience when you finally got around to watching a classic movie?
I forgive you, Tim. I have friends, who shall remain nameless, who think Spinal Tap is a bad movie, and those people deserved to be brained with a Flying V guitar. But if you haven’t seen it until now, and it doesn’t hit you in the formative way that it hit a lot of us back in the 1980s, that makes perfect sense. I had the exact same experience trying to watch Annie Hall a couple of years ago. I didn’t even bother to finish the movie, because I’d heard every line from it already (other filmmakers copied or referenced Annie Hall a LOT after it came out), and because Woody Allen makes me groan. I have no doubt it’s an all-timer of a flick, but I got to the party too late. It happens.
The other one is Lawrence of Arabia, which I couldn’t make it through either. I can usually tolerate movies with slow pacing, but Lawrence was downright glacial to my web-addled, 21st century mind. I still feel shitty about it. Citizen Kane was the real deal, though.
Michael:
Is there a single moment in your life you can look back on and confidently say that it was the funniest thing you ever said and/or did? If so what was it?
Middle school science class. Our teacher was explaining how a man can lose one testicle and still have a working reproductive system. So I chirped up and said, “Oh, so it’s kinda like that DualStart Diehard battery?" Brought the house down. I felt like the most popular kid in school for half a second. You had to be there.
Greg:
I love it when an actor gets nice and big towards the end of their career: Orson Welles, Brando… the bigger the better. I noticed Russell Crowe is quite good as a big chonk, who else would you like to see balloon up for a nice role or two?
That reminds me, I gotta watch Nuremberg. Anyway, as someone who was overweight as a kid, I don’t wish the condition on anyone, let alone any of my favorite actors. That said, Timothee Chalamet is still 50 pounds too light to ever win a Best Actor trophy. You want that Oscar, Timmy? Then start carb-loading this instant (That reminds me: I also need to watch Marty Supreme).
Sam:
I've been off Twitter (I refuse to call it that other thing) for a couple years now. I had a hard time closing my account and walking away but I did it. I don't miss the dopamine rush of making a poop joke that gets like five engagements, and I certainly don't miss all the Nazis that populate it now. The problem is my group chat. A couple of good friends and I have a long-running and very active thread. Despite my pleas that they ditch the hellsite and do something else, they won't. One is even saying he's staying ‘til the bitter end, when Jack buys the site back for pennies.
The daydream of “Elon will sell Twitter once he’s sick of losing money on it” died months ago, if not earlier. Musk loves the little Nazi propaganda machine he’s built over at there, and he’s never selling it. Even when he dies, he’ll bequeath it to some dipshit Trump kid. That’s the deal with Elon and Twitter. That place is ruined for good.
Your friends may not buy that, because they’re still chasing the high of old Twitter. They might also use it for sports, because none of the big outlets/leagues have migrated to Bluesky. So on a superficial level, I get why some people have kept their accounts there open. A number of staffers here at Defector still have their accounts, because they need them for work. That’s why Elon bought the site to begin with: to trap everyone. So I can lecture people to get off TwiXter until I’m blue in the fingers, but I can’t make anyone quit something unless they want to quit it. It’s like heroin, but lamer.
Michael:
I had an idea to make a revolutionary war video game but it would be a simulation in real time. It would take eight years to play from start to finish, assuming you survive the whole thing. And the vast majority of it would be just trying to not starve, fighting off disease, and braving the elements. You might only get into a few battles at most. Would anybody play this?
No.
Email of the week!
Anon:
At the risk of doxxing myself, I work near the new L.A. Chargers headquarters and practice facility, and I drive by it on my way home most days. The street that goes from the facility intersects Pacific Coast Highway, so there is often a line of cars waiting for the light to change so they can turn onto it.
Yesterday, I was at the front of the left-turn line, when a car pulled up next to me in the adjacent lane, also turning left. The first thing that caught my eye was the car: it was a performance Bentley in matte dark gray paint. The windows were down, the sunroof was open, and some music was blasting. The driver was rocking what looked to be a real gold watch. Putting two and two together, I figured this car must have come from the Chargers facility. I pulled slightly forward, and saw that the driver was Mike McDaniel.
When the light changed, he hauled ass through the turn onto PCH. I have an electric car and I punched it, but still couldn't keep up with his Bentley. After a couple of blocks, I saw him turn into the most expensive part of Manhattan Beach; presumably where he and his family are living now. I did some quick research when I got home about his car (Bentley Supersports) and his watch. Mike was rocking over a half-million dollars' worth of toys. I guess it's good to be fired from the Dolphins and hired as OC by the Chargers while the former still owes you a lot of money.
Hell yeah it is. Coaches should always live their best life.
