Let the Wookie Win / Girl Talk (The Master of Aggregates Society)

A note to all:

Guests, regular readers, today's post requires a bit of systems management. We're stepping out of our comfort zone and into the wonderful world of pop music. A little. For those of you who were directed here by forces beyond your understanding because you are interested in the new Girl Talk album (or because you subscribe to Roger Ebert's tweets (Thank you, Roger Ebert)), we invite you to stay, browse around. This is not a review. If that's what you're after, I will direct you here, and bid you good reading and good day, but there are, here (actually here), thoughts on the new Girl Talk album presented in a broader context, (that, I hope, rubs shoulders with public radio) so we hope you'll stick around for the conversation. For you, scholars, regular readers, I invite you also to click that little link. If you have reservations because it wasn't meant for you, here is your own link. It goes to the same place, but it's for you and as you're traveling you may experience the self-satisfaction to which you've become so accustomed. It's a good review, and as a preface to this post, it's a concise refresher of the method and history of Girl Talk. Enjoy, y'all. Shall we proceed?

C l i o ,    M u s e    o f    H i s t o r y    a n d    S o n g

"I ain't pass the bar, but I know a lil' bit"

Sometimes, scholars, the universe drops an idea into your lap. Usually, scholars, the universe does not then follow through by dropping permission to wax on about that idea on your public-radio-themed blog. On Monday morning, 15 November, I was not listening to my local affiliate.  As I drove to work (In my 2005 base-model Chrysler Sebring, complete with big, squishy steering-wheel cover), I was listening to the new Girl Talk romp All Day. For those of you who  have missed the event-itude surrounding this album drop, Mr. Girl Talk gave away (yes, for free) the tracks (or uni-track, if that's what you preferred) of his latest project here. He did so very, very early on that auspicious morning of 15 November. I suggest you go grab it if you haven't already.

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story

The album kicks off with a mash-up of Black Sabbath and Ludacris. I imagine that most listeners did not then begin to experience bouts of excitement, fear, and resentment as they tried to figure out a scheme for writing about a matrix of near parallels involving Clio, Jay-Z, Homer, and Mr. Girl Talk (on their public-radio-themed blogs). For transparency's sake, I'll confess that I am imagining that scenario as we speak, and it's nice to see the lot of you so riled up over the oral poetry tradition and your public-radio-themed blogs. (May I link to your public-radio-themed blogs? And you to mine? (This may help with search engine traffic. (Everyone's a winner. (Thank you, Roger Ebert.))))


So, Black Sabbath and Ludacris, sure, why not, of course. Awesome, yes? Yes, awesome, and fun (though certainly not without it's internally critique-worthy elements as an album (again, for more on that I refer you to the links in the preface (you will not get a third link (whoops, you did)))), but who is the first voice on Mr. Girl Talk's latest opus? What are the first words breathed into our ears? "Hit me," says Mr. Jay-Z. "Hit me," indeed, scholars. Hit me. Indeed.


I won't drag out the connection here. Very simply, very naturally, and in a very scholastically insubstantial way, I thought, "Hey, you know . . . it's like Jay-Z is his muse or something."


We all know Mr. Girl Talk <3s Jay-Z. Duh. (If we didn't, now we do.) And then I thought something along the lines of, "that would make Mr. Girl Talk like a modern day oral poet, or something." Then I lit a cigarette, smoked it with my left hand, fed myself a piece of Turkish delight from the plastic container on the passenger seat with the other, and then Zeus (or Athena or one of those folks) drove my car while All Day shape-shifted. And then Chewbacca and I bumped the Millennium Falcon into hyperspace, and as the stars streamed by I thought,

"Wait, sir. You just wait. Stop the bus. I mean, okay. So it's like, yeah, he's invoking a muse, but what does this have anything to do with The Odyssey, really?"

(Wookie language in translation for ease of reading.)

"Well, Han," said Chewie, "I think you might actually be on to something here. Mr. Girl Talk is kind of an "artist" in the same way the Homer was "kind of" an artist."

"Go on . . ."

"Sure, I mean . . . Homer isn't taking credit for anything, right? The gods breathe into his lungs and he breathes out The Odyssey, amirite?"

"Right."

"And so Mr. Girl Talk––"

"––I think his name is Gregg Gillis."

"And so Mr. Girl Talk . . . Gregg Gillis . . . is just, you know . . . letting the party gods breathe in his lungs and then oops, All Day."

"I really miss Leia."

"Honestly, I don't want to hear about Leia anymore, Han. I thought this was "guy" time."

"Well, okay, so I get what you're saying. Black Sabbath, Katy Perry, M.I.A., The Doors,  Kid Cudi . . . These are all party gods? Or great heros? And Mr. Girl Talk is just sort of letting all this happen through him? Don't you think he wouldn't jump at the chance to brag about his agency? Say, "Hey! Me! See this giant matchstick I made out of all these little matchsticks? I did that!"And the muse . . . the muse is Jay-Z?"

"Jay-Z as the muse was your idea, I was just trying to fill in the gaps."

"I mean I guess I'm kind of buying it."

"Again, Han, you're the one selling it, really, I was just trying to be supportive."

"So what does all this say about anything?"

"Well I think Mr. Girl Talk's agency is kind of irrelevant. I think it's also not so troubling if you can't work out all the one-to-one correlations. The kind of neat thing here is that Mr. Girl Talk is aggregating. And there's some really old precedent for that."

"Like The Odyssey?"

"Seriously, Han, do you ever listen to yourself?"

"No, not really. Turkish delight?"

"I'm good, thanks. Seriously though, Han. You're being lazy. How can you extrapolate this? What exactly is it that you do?"

"I fight in the universe on the good side."

"Okay, Paul, Earth to Paul. What exactly is it that you do?"

Then, scholars, I realized that I wasn't in hyperspace. I was on Route 66 headed west. What exactly is it that I do? Well, I write a blog about public radio. Go on. Okay, well, um . . . I gather bits of information from here and there. Yes . . . I aggregate and analyze . . . Who else does that? Um . . . Jay-Z? No, he's the muse, you said that. (Actually, he does, in a way, but let's let him just be the muse for right now). Oh, right, ummm . . . Mr. Girl Talk? Yes! And who else? Me? Oh . . . me and . . . Homer? Sure, but who else? Umm . . . Don't be shy. . . . Um-um-um . . . Robert Siegel! Yes! And um . . . Ken Burns? TOTALLY KEN BURNS! So wait, like everybody? Well, maybe not everybody. But anyone in this topsy-turvy rickem'-rackem' world worth their salt. Anyone's who's trying to say anything in these fast times. So, wait, what does that say about agency? Motivation? Original artistic thoughts and what not? The signified and the signifier? Why are you bring semiotics into this? I just don't know anymore . . . It's okay to admit when you're wrong. Honestly, Italics, I don't think I ever really got much out of semiotics. If you had, you could probably bring this full circle to Logos or something else really impressive sounding. That's probably true. But most of all that stuff I learned in college has to compete with man-seeking ravens, and documentaries about baseball part two, and the universe, and divorce rates and China and the like. Well, listen, Paul. Sometimes, you have these ideas and it's important to try them out with a close friend. If you were smarter, or more driven, you'd have written a concise argumentative essay on the subject, done research, but if you were smarter, or more driven, there wouldn't have needed to be dialogue between Chewbacca and Han Solo, which, I daresay, is a first in academia. But what stone have we added to the temple of research? What was the point of all this? Sometimes it's just important to ask questions and draw correlations in a really naïve, childlike way, to get it all floating around in your brainy tissues and then let your dreams sort it all out. So we can blog about this on the public radio blog? Well, no. Why not? You didn't hear about it on public radio. 

Time passes. Friday 19 November, 2010:

Sometimes, scholars, the universe drops an idea into your lap. Usually, scholars, the universe does not then follow through by dropping permission to wax on about that idea on your public-radio-themed blog. Today, on All Things Considered (The Odyssey 2: Eclectic Boogaloo) a very nice man named Tom (sorry, Tom, I didn't catch your last name) reviewed the new Girl Talk album, All Day. I'm sorry, scholars, I did not pay close attention to the contents of that review. I had to see a wookie about an idea.