’80s Basement Lecture Series, 18 Feb 2017: Satire

About a month ago I was feeling nostalgic about NYC, as I sometimes do, and I remembered that my friend Brook started a lecture series there where she would invite various experts to talk about their specialties. It all started in her living room with a small group then grew into an impressive crowd. She called it the Living Room Lecture Series.

This memory sparked in me a desire to copy her. I texted some friends to see what they thought:

Hey, friends! I’m thinking of starting a quarterly lecture series at my house. Maybe 20-minute talks, followed by discussion and treats. The lectures would come from us and cover a variety of topics. Reilly could talk about Family Guy, Maddie could discuss writing copy or songs, Kylie poetry or Ndichie, Jon film, etc. You don’t have to lecture if you don’t want to. Does this sound fun? Would you support this?

The replies:

  • OH MY HELL. I would ADORE THIS.
  • I strongly support this message.
  • YES!
  • If kids are welcome I’m totally interested. We used to do something similar in DC and I love that kind of thing! Also I’m also interested without the kid. Both ways, totally interested.

So we set a date and time, which was February 18 at 7:30pm. I thought about holding these meetings in our basement, which has wood paneling and strange patchy brown carpet from the ’80s. I decided to call this thing the ’80s Basement Lecture Series. Genius, I know.

This past Saturday the guests arrived, and we gave them a tour of our home. Then we ate some pizza and got really drunk. JUST KIDDING THERE WAS NO PIZZA. Just kidding, we had a lot of pizza and zero alcohol.

We headed down to the basement. I introduced Reilly, and he gave a terrific lecture about satire and its evolution on television over the past 30 years. He defined indirect and direct satire, using Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert as examples. He hinted a quick comparison of Tomi Lahren and Samantha Bee. He showed clips from the Simpsons and Parks and Recreation. We had a fascinating discussion about the current political climate and people who don’t get satire. And we discussed the purpose of satire: in what ways does it motivate us to act/speak/think? It was a lot of fun.

I looked at the group of us and wondered: Are THESE the people I like hanging out with, slightly strayed, slightly jack-Mormon AND incredibly faithful, moderate-to-left-leaning, super smart, extremely big-hearted; socially conscious, ever eager agents of change to make the world a better place?

Yes, YES.  A frillion times yes.

The conversation, their presence, their intelligence and spirit: I basked in it all.

I’m not gonna lie. It’s great bringing people together to share ideas and foster and strengthen friendships. But I may have started this lecture series just for me. Selfish little me.

Can’t wait for the next meeting.

May’s Super-duper Song Review: “Baby” by Justin Bieber

I had heard of Justin Bieber over a year ago. I’d seen pictures, listened to soundbytes. I’m not one to predict the staying power of any 21st century artist or musician, especially if his testosterone switch hasn’t flipped on yet, but am I EVER SO GLAD to be living in the era of this phenomenon, the “fever.” How can you not love him, his angelic voice, his wispy hair? His smooth dance moves? All before puberty, ladies and gentlemen. Can you imagine what kind of magic will unleash once thicker fuzz appears on his face? Until nearly two months ago in Africa, I did not know the power of this man-boy until a throng of fellow female college students started singing his songs. What a mighty blessing that was. Now, I will never forget him.

One of his timeless classics is “Baby” featuring Ludacris. It is one of the most enigmatic, soul-transforming chef-d’oeuvres that has ever been created. EVER.

Let me show this to you in a fancy, new window.

First, this song is sad. BUT LISTEN TO THE SONG! It has a fast beat and the melodic phrases go up a short scale then back down the scale. It intends to stimulate brain activity, like Mozart. Think of the beginning of  “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” as the notes ascend then descend. The remarkable thing here is that Justin is not performing as a string section of a chamber orchestra. He’s doing everything WITH HIS VOICE, with much aplomb!

You know you love me, I know you care
Just shout whenever, and I’ll be there
You want my love, you want my heart
And we will never ever ever be apart

Can you feel the confidence? I would be beside myself, completely lovestruck, if someone told me what I know and what I want. Why, yes, I DO KNOW that I love you. And it’s great that you know I care, but I wonder if you know what I care ABOUT? YES, YOU. Well, of course I want your love and your heart. I was beginning to think the era of the mindless woman submitting to the domineering man was gone, but fortunately this song is restoring that mentality to full force.

WHENEVER! WHENEVER! WHENEVER!

Um, Justin, where are you? You said you’d come.  What am I supposed to think when I call for him and he doesn’t come? How does he distinguish between what I want and what I will get? HE DOESN’T. EVERYTHING IS SO SIMPLE: IT’S THE SAME FOR HIM. Is he setting conditions for eternal togetherness? I want his love and his heart, therefore, we will stay together forever. That’s all it takes. That’s what I’ve done wrong all these years. I should have wanted a beautiful 16-year-old boy’s love to ensure my life’s happiness.

Are we an item? Girl, quit playing
We’re just friends, what are you saying?
Say there’s another and look right in my eyes
My first love broke my heart for the first time
And I was like…

Uh, oh. Showing insecurity, are we? VERY INTERESTING PROGRESSION. I love how one can experience such a wide range emotions and experiences in this stanza. IT’S OKAY IF HE DOESN’T REALLY KNOW IF HE’S IN A RELATIONSHIP, BECAUSE NOBODY REALLY “KNOWS” THAT KIND OF THING, ANYWAY. Uncertainty, just-friendship, doubt; shock from finding out there’s another love interest; falling so hard for someone that he becomes the victim of a big-time high-school jilting. This perfectly captures the high-school adventure of crushes and heartache, but I can’t really feel sad, because the tune is so happy, at least within the half-octave range it provides.

Baby, baby, baby oooh
Like baby, baby, baby nooo
Like baby, baby, baby oooh
I thought you’d always be mine (mine)

One of my favorite things in high school was when people called me “baby.” Nothing made me feel more like an adult or more accommodating of my desire to be independent. What I also appreciate here is the anguish I feel in the “oh”s and “no”s, like he’s going through a type of denial–an important part of grieving–in the loss of his very first love that he absolutely truly thought he would love and be together with forever and ever and never mind that he’s dancing like an elf and making weird faces, because THOSE are DEFINITELY NOT reasons to break up with somebody.

Baby, baby, baby oooh
Like baby, baby, baby nooo
Like baby, baby, baby oooh
I thought you’d always be mine (mine)

Apparently, the suffering is so deep, this part of the chorus needs repeating.

Also, not a coincidence this video is shot in a bowling alley. It’s a place where lots of teenagers hang out, and it incorporates the metaphor of the strike. Which either could mean striking out or completely scoring. And whatever kind it means depends on individual situations. Way to integrate relativistic philosophy into a song. IMPRESSIVE.

I ALSO LOVE HOW MODESTLY DRESSED JUSTIN IS IN THIS VIDEO. I know he is sparing my eyes from his rippling muscles and he wants me to focus on his boy-choir voice and that army dog-tag necklace. Because he happens to know how much I respect the military and have a weakness for men in uniform, plus, since he’s engaging my mind with the composition of the song, his conscientious dress only serves to make me smarter. He’s freaking brilliant.

For you I would have done whatever
And I just can’t believe we ain’t together
And I wanna play it cool, but I’m losin’ you
I’ll buy you anything, I’ll buy you any ring
And I’m in pieces, baby fix me
And just shake me ’til you wake me from this bad dream
I’m going down, down, down, down
And I just can’t believe my first love won’t be around

May I take this moment to compliment Mr. Bieber’s lip-synching abilities. ALWAYS SO SMILEY!

What is the color of desperation? It’s called Justin Bieber. I LOVE how he encourages emotional awareness, despite his denial. He’s in pieces, and he needs the girl to put him back together. BUT she also wants him to shake him, which you would think defeats the purpose of the Humpty-Dumpty repair, but he’s having one of those falling-down dreams, which means he’s losing control, and he needs the girl to help him gain control. I LOVE how specific he gets with his promises: I can shout WHENEVER, for me he would do WHATEVER. His level of commitment completely blows my mind, especially when he expresses that he wants to buy me anything, ANY RING. I LOVE the idealism he has, and this definitely reveals my ignorance of Canadians, because it seems that they propose or betroth or declare everlasting love well before they graduate from high school. It is because of his idealism that he’s in disbelief.  BUT, he’s also really good at being able to tell what his love interest knows and wants. This song is TIGHT.

YET, this song does imply a little bit of optimism with “first” love. There will be others. And you’ll most likely be dumped by them, too. This song prepares people for reality!

And I’m like
Baby, baby, baby oooh
Like baby, baby, baby nooo
Like baby, baby, baby oooh
I thought you’d always be mine (mine)

Baby, baby, baby oooh
Like baby, baby, baby nooo
Like baby, baby, baby oooh
I thought you’d always be mine (mine)

Has anyone ever considered the effect of using the word baby for nearly half the words of the refrain? It is a serious jolt to the brain. It establishes a certain expectation in the listener, a point of focus. I now turn my head whenever someone says “baby.” This song is a great conditioning tool if you ever want stop thinking your name is whatever people normally call you.

[Ludacris:]
Luda! When I was 13, I had my first love,
There was nobody that compared to my baby
and nobody came between us or could ever come above
She had me going crazy, oh, I was star-struck,
she woke me up daily, don’t need no Starbucks.
She made my heart pound, it skipped a beat when I see her in the street and
at school on the playground but I really wanna see her on the weekend.
She knows she got me dazing cause she was so amazing
and now my heart is breaking but I just keep on saying…

What I love about rappers’ interludes is how they introduce themselves. This particular section demonstrates the power of girls over boys. And, it’s sort of dirty if you try to connect certain ideas to teenage boys, so I will probably just skip this part. But yes, teenage boys are capable of feeling the drug-like effects that girls have on them. It’s fascinating how boys are really truly the victims throughout this song. Girls should really feel empowered and in not any way degraded by this song at all.

BUT the rapper and Justin Bieber have matching dogtags. Not the least bit ludicrous.

Ooh! Dance-off! These dance circles are universal, and it’s important that all the cool and able dances show off their moves in the center, and it’s especially important that somebody in the circle knows all the words to whatever song is playing at the time. BELIEVE ME: IT DOES HAPPEN. Just ask Africa.

Baby, baby, baby oooh
Like baby, baby, baby nooo
Like baby, baby, baby oooh
I thought you’d always be mine (mine)

Baby, baby, baby oooh
Like baby, baby, baby nooo
Like baby, baby, baby oooh
I thought you’d always be mine (mine)

I’m gone (Yeah Yeah Yeah, Yeah Yeah Yeah)
 Now I’m all gone (Yeah Yeah Yeah, Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Now I’m all gone (Yeah Yeah Yeah, Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Now I’m all gone (gone, gone, gone…)
I’m gone

One of the last stages of grief is acceptance. Contrast the “no” with the “yeah”s at the very end of the song. Compare the agony of Justin Bieber in this song to that of T.S. Eliot’s in a couple of lines from the Waste Land:

No: “I will show you fear in a handful of dust” and Yeah: “these fragments I have shored against my ruins.” SO MUCH ALIKE! I’m pretty sure Justin got most of his inspiration from T.S. Eliot. That’s just one more reason to love this song with all my heart and soul.

Tragic. Awe-inspiring. All in such a happy little tune. I WANT TO FEEL SAD IN A DANCE-OFF ALL THE TIME AND GO BOWLING AND THROW STRIKES AS MANY TIMES AS POSSIBLE TO SCORE AND REEK OF DESPERATION WITH A SMILE–A FADING SMILE–UNTIL I AM GONE, GONE, GONE.

WHAT A SUPER-DUPER SONG! SMARTER NOW!
May’s rating scale:

SUPER DUPER!

More mediocrity!

Medially mediocre

Trying too hard!

DUPED.

May’s Super-duper Song Review: “Firework”by Katy Perry

If you’re just tuning in, see one of May’s Song Reviews to understand the difference in critiques.

Katy Perry is the starter sparkler. Instead of triggering a chain reaction, it’s more like a domino effect, which is so much easier to keep track of. I also LOVE how her pinup aesthetic challenges us to consider her to be more substantial in character than we would expect.

I first heard this song on Glee. The word firework in its singular form really bugged me, but the more I listened to it, the more songwriting treasures I found. Oh, yes. Just keep on reading.

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?

Similes are the kaleidoscope to one’s mind. See what I did there, using a metaphor to describe a simile? The plastic-bag simile alludes to the film, American Beauty, with that scene with that kid videotaping a plastic bag caught in a small whirlwind, and he says how BEAUTIFUL it is. I LOVE how Katy channels into the bag’s desires: the bag wants to start again, after drifting through the wind. Is the plastic bag fromWal-Mart or Target, because that makes a big difference. But what if the bag wanted to keep drifting? Here a philosophical discussion about free will emerges and another movie comes to mind, The Adjustment Bureau. And I cannot even TELL you how much I love Matt Damon. Any song that alludes to Matt Damon is tops in my book.

The second simile refers to one of my favorite bands in the world, Radiohead, who sang a song called “House of Cards.” But do you feel like a house of cards, so unstable, so delicate and defeated and transopaque? Look what Ms. Perry does here by juxtaposing these two images: what if the wind that carries the plastic bag blows down the house of cards? Will the bag catch the cards? Will both objects then have found purpose? Which are you, the bag or the cards? Or are you the wind? If you’re like the wind, then you’re like Baby from Dirty Dancing, and that’s one of my all-time favorite nostalgic movies. This song is batting 1.00 so far.

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there’s still a chance for you
‘Cause there’s a spark in you?

Everyone will experience feeling overwhelmed sometime in life. This progression of rhetorical questions is leading to something bigger. From bag to cards to coffins to that single delayed peak on the heart monitor: a spark. How does Katy know about this spark? Are you watching the video? Is it because she has a spark of her very own? Make no mistake, she’s not short-circuiting, she’s letting her light shine, and there’s no way to hide it under a bushel, because the bushel would catch fire and continue inspiring people. What’s more is that the bushel would burn longer than the sparkler would. Bushels are tinderwood. That probably was an alternate lyric: “Baby, you are tinderwood …” That’s a mighty fine simile, too.

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

This intro rides up the scale and builds volume, the song’s continuing to lead – with the staccatoed strings – to the grand refrain. Don’t you feel it? Are we all like Katy Perry and have self-igniting lights? Do we have our own flints to get a spark? I think my favorite Flintstones characters were Betty Rubble and Dino. They seemed to represent best the modern, stone-age family.

I like how this song stirs up debate about the concept of brightness. How can your light shine if it’s daytime and the sun is out? Also, if the sun is out, and it hasn’t rained in a while, that increases the chances of accidental fires. You’ve got to stand out among losers and not get lost among achievers who have too much in common with you. With them, it’s way too bright, and you lose your specialness.

‘Cause baby, you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky

I LOVE how this song emphasizes how a single, singular firework can own the night like Independence Day. It doesn’t take the whole tent just beyond the Georgia border, but one, individual sparkler. That’s another alternative lyric: “Baby you’re a sparkler …”

I LOVE the half-rhyme of work and worth. Do you sense the intent with equating one’s worth with the work she does? There’s a lot of potential energy in gunpowder, and it does take work – in the form of heat – to release that energy. The weight that energy carries as it moves across the sky turns into momentum, and we all know to use the momentum of goodness to push us through tough times.

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, oh
You’re gonna leave ’em falling down

I like the image of colors bursting and making ’em go. And who are we going to leave falling down? That’s right, the bad guys, the guys of the darkness. Because they’re in the dark and can’t see and they trip over stuff.

You don’t have to feel like a waste of space
You’re original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

I LOVE how well-rounded Katy Perry is. I had no idea she studied meteorology and was familiar with weather patterns. That sort of reliability contrasts well with individual uniqueness and purpose. Just like everyone else, you don’t have to feel like your life is pointless, and you cannot be replaced, just like everyone else.

Maybe you’re reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it’s time, you’ll know

So, there was the old game show, Let’s Make A Deal, with the three doors, right? But here, the deals are all wonderful and perfect. Open one door, any door, and your life is gold.

I LOVE the lightning bolt imagery and the idea of a heart blowing. Exploding. Being the lone peak on the heart monitor, questioning the need for a heart, because if you’re a firework, then maybe you’re one of those kind that are like trick candles and never go out. You’d outlive your heart anyway. You’re too busy being an example to all those depressed and self-pitying people just like you. Everyone will be a bursty boom of light.

Cue strings!

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

‘Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, oh
You’re gonna leave ’em falling down

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It’s always been inside of you, you, you
And now it’s time to let it through

Excellent. Actual fireworks! This is what the song is about, not the wimpy sparklers up to this point. And not the metaphored or personified fireworks that make up most of this video. Now, it’s hard to say that the song could stand strongly enough without the video.

‘Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky

Ooh, marching band formations that sort of look like a firework: a circle with sparkly arms. They really thought of everything.

Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, oh
You’re gonna leave ’em falling down

Katy Perry’s sort of dancing like Tiffany at a mall concert. You would think that would make me like this video less, but no. This is probably the most redeeming aspect of the video.

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon

How can this be a bad song with three booms echo-half-rhymed by three moons? And, do you know how hard it would be to find a light brighter than three whole moons? Your singular firework can do the job. Accept it, and let it burn and shine. Just like everyone else. Best club in the world to belong to.

*Serious Note: Because I can’t make fun of domestic abuse or victims of bullies or girls who hate themselves because they think they’re fat or cancer or gay intimidation or a woman who looks like Amber Tamblyn giving birth to sparklers, and because I actually like when Katy Perry’s voice gets husky, this isn’t nearly as SUPER DUPER! as “Friday” by Rebecca Black.

But I do support the single firework. The one that sets off all the others.

May’s rating scale:

SUPER DUPER!

More mediocrity!

Medially mediocre

Trying too hard!

DUPED.

May’s Super-Duper Song Review: “Friday” by Rebecca Black

It was Friday, March 25, 2011. I was reading at the BYU English Symposium, and a good friend of mine came to hear the presentation. It was already raining that morning, and by the time my panel was over, it was pouring even harder, and threatening to snow. On our walk from the Jesse Knight Building to the Marriott Center, my friend heard a girl singing a song to the friend she was walking with. My friend remarked that that was the second time she overheard someone singing that song. I asked, “What song is this?” Then she started describing it, and I had never heard of it. But, if people on campus had caught the earworm, then I figured I would hear it eventually.

Eventually came very soon. That night I was at a friend’s apartment. We had just returned from a BYU men’s volleyball game, and it was getting late, and we started looking up videos on YouTube. We looked up everything from the Kermit the Frog singing Johnny Cash to Flight of the Conchords. And then somebody had to bring up a song called “Friday” by Rebecca Black. The group of us watched this video a few times, commenting on the musicality and songwriting. I must admit I was taken aback. Why hadn’t I heard of this earlier? How did this phenomenon arise? And, how fortunate was I to have heard this song on a Friday?

Since that fated Friday, I hear the song all the time, everywhere. Here’s the song, for your reference, to accompany my following comments:

The more I listen to the song, the more hypnotizing it becomes. In addition to the catchy autotuned singing, which so skillfully cloaks Ms. Black’s pubescent voice, the lyrics are profound and showcase the marvelous acrobatics of the English language in a neglected circus sideshow. Words, music, video – everything about the song begs further analysis:

(Yeah, Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ark) 
Oo-ooh-ooh, hoo yeah, yeah 
Yeah, yeah 
Yeah-ah-ah 
Yeah-ah-ah 
Yeah-ah-ah 
Yeah-ah-ah 
Yeah, yeah, yeah

From the beginning, this song exudes positivity. Where some songs begin with “No-oooo” or even simply, “la la la la,” the “Yeah” inherently invites acceptance. Yeah, of course I will like this song. Yeah, I will keep singing this song all day because, yeah, it makes me so happy. Yeah, even when it’s not Friday. But real-life Fridays make me smile very big. Yeah.

Also, what about the beautiful message of the Ark? The story of Noah’s Ark expresses new beginnings and exclusion of the wicked. What does this have to do with Friday? The righteous party hard on Friday, but not on Sunday. Rainbows come on Sunday.

What do you think of the flipbook animation here? I wish I were as skillful at creating cartoon effects as other people.

Seven a.m., waking up in the morning 
Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs 
Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal 
Seein’ everything, the time is goin’ 
Tickin’ on and on, everybody’s rushin’ 
Gotta get down to the bus stop 
Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends (My friends)

The first thing I think of when I read this verse isn’t exactly positive: if she’s rushing in the morning, why doesn’t she set her alarm clock to go off earlier? I do appreciate Rebecca’s fastidiousness, though, especially her hygiene and the importance of breakfast.

I LOVE the forced rhyme of bowl and cereal. It further emphasizes the value of breakfast: if you make those words rhyme, then you can make yourself eat breakfast in the morning. Also, by the end of the week, by Friday, one’s energy is all but spent, and if she’s going to party that night, she needs all the energy that she can get.

The dilemma of having to choose between riding the bus and riding in the cool car with friends is so, so real!

Kickin’ in the front seat 
Sittin’ in the back seat 
Gotta make my mind up 
Which seat can I take? 

I LOVE how Rebecca thinks safety first! Which seat can she take? Instead of taking either side in the back, she takes the middle! She wants to be alive for the big party that night!

It’s Friday, Friday 
Gotta get down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend 
Friday, Friday 
Gettin’ down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend

I LOVE the English language! I had no idea that forward could be pronounced “forWARD”! I love having the choice of pronouncing words differently than their standard, universally accepted pronunciations! I’m going to pronounce forward in as many ways as I can! I LOVE the free spirit of this song!

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) 
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) 
Fun, fun, fun, fun 
Lookin’ forward to the weekend 

7:45, we’re drivin’ on the highway 
Cruisin’ so fast, I want time to fly 
Fun, fun, think about fun 
You know what it is 
I got this, you got this 
My friend is by my right, ay 
I got this, you got this 
Now you know it

I LOVE how Rebecca throws caution to the wind and safety doesn’t matter anymore! She’s not sitting deep in the seat but on the back of seat in that ultra-cool convertible. But she’s with her friends on a Friday night, and that’s what’s important! I LOVE the city skyline and the full moon in the background. I was a little worried teenagers were going to start morphing into vampires and wolves, but THAT DOES NOT HAPPEN! I LOVE THAT!

I LOVE how the friends on both sides of her have braces! What a brilliant plug for dental maintenance and self-conscious imperfections!

Kickin’ in the front seat 
Sittin’ in the back seat 
Gotta make my mind up 
Which seat can I take?

It’s obvious now which seat is her Friday seat. But I LOVE to hear it again anyway.

It’s Friday, Friday 
Gotta get down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend 
Friday, Friday 
Gettin’ down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) 
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) 
Fun, fun, fun, fun 
Lookin’ forward to the weekend

Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday 
Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin’) 
We-we-we so excited 
We so excited 
We gonna have a ball today 

Did you know that one of my favorite poets, Gerard Manley Hopkins, left out small words in his poetry to purify it and extract its essence? I believe Rebecca caught the pulse of Mr. Hopkins with this part of the song. “We so excited” carries just as much meaning as “We are so excited.” The important words: We = togetherness and bonding. So = describes how excited. Excited = excited!

Tomorrow is Saturday 
And Sunday comes after … wards 
I don’t want this weekend to end 

The sequence of weekend days often confuses me. This is a wonderful reminder. This segment hearkens back to the beginning with the flipbook animation. The continuity (and cost consciousness!) of this video is really impressive.

R-B, Rebecca Black 
So chillin’ in the front seat (In the front seat) 
In the back seat (In the back seat) 
I’m drivin’, cruisin’ (Yeah, yeah) 
Fast lanes, switchin’ lanes 
Wit’ a car up on my side (Woo!) 
(C’mon) Passin’ by is a school bus in front of me 
Makes tick tock, tick tock, wanna scream 
Check my time, it’s Friday, it’s a weekend 
We gonna have fun, c’mon, c’mon, y’all 

Did you know that R.B. are the initials for Rebecca Black?

Did you know that Gertrude Stein often strung words together in a seemingly nonsensical way, but she used words similarly to how artists use different materials to build and layer and texture their work? Not only does Rebecca add variety to the song by including a rapper, she adds dimension to the song by adding other lyrics that also do not seem to make sense. It’s a diversion, much like Fridays are supposed to be.

In terms of continuity and diversity, the rapper-driver is reckless driving, swerving between lanes, passing a school bus full of children-victims of the public school system. Caution has clearly caught the jetstream. I appreciate the understated environmental message. Pure genius.

It’s Friday, Friday 
Gotta get down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend 
Friday, Friday 
Gettin’ down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend 

Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) 
Partyin’, partyin’ (Yeah) 
Fun, fun, fun, fun 
Lookin’ forward to the weekend 

It’s Friday, Friday 
Gotta get down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend, weekend 
Friday, Friday 
Gettin’ down on Friday 
Everybody’s lookin’ forward to the weekend

More about the lyrical brilliance of this song. How do you fill a measure of music? Four beats? Not with “la la la la” or even with “yeah yeah yeah yeah” but with “Fun fun fun fun!” I love the challenge of memorizing this song with all the quirky shifts in the words – the words themselves, as well as the pronunciations. So, so deep.

If I were going to sing a song about the weekend to my friends, I would sing it beside a tree. I would also include cuts to me singing autotuned high notes in a studio with colored lights and stage smoke. I would also make the audience clap for me and my groovy moves. The song ends with the same positivity as it begins. But, the song also ends with a word that ends in end: weekend. Who else would have thought of that?

This song deserves higher than a “SUPER DUPER” rating, but I can’t possibly make an exception in the scale I designed, even as powerful as Fridays are.

May’s rating scale:

SUPER DUPER!

More mediocrity!

Medially mediocre

Trying too hard!

DUPED.