The end of time as we know it...lets paint it YELLE

So I'm trying to get some work cranked out in the form of another late night at Anschutz. How will I ever stay awake as to get all of my papers and assignments finished on time? May I suggest adding a dash of Yelle? Ahhh..that'll do just fine.



Sooo..the downlow on this Yelle is that this French bundle of energy is recreating pop as she sees fit, taking on all avenues with ultra-slick synth production that kicks, bumps and slides down your backside and on to your feet which at this point will be hitting the dance floor in sync. Goodness my, the glory days of infectious electro-pop are back, and thankfully the mainstream hasn't caught on to ruin it yet!

another video, i dont have cable pt. 2

Stuff from colbert show, i dont have cable

Getting back to nothing I missed....

This is town is dead to me...or at least that's the way I feel sometimes. It's been six years in the making and this "Mitch-All-Together" graduation cake that I call a waste of tiime and money still hasn't fully baked yet. By the way, my name is Derek, not Mitch. I just had to give proper credit where it's deserved. Moving on.

I don't know what to expect of myself these days. I just came across something that I found written 4 months ago while I was with Sydney in December. I wrote that I felt like I was playing the role of the bum in the relationship with her playing the scholar. She sees potential in me and that's great because so many times I don't. I continued on writing that she's the one working her ass off while I'm the one freeloading around without a purpose, a plan or a goal. Damn, I hate it when my past self nails it. I should make an application where you could be pen pals with your future self. That way, you could call yourself out on something that you know you would probably do later on. I could probably enlist Tio or his roommate Travis to help me in this effort. Anyways, I'm getting distracted.

So today, I ran into the mailman for McCollum, Ace, that white haired dark glasses wearing cool guy. Yeah, I ran into him at the Kansas Union while I was picking up my mail for KJ in the Union. He found out that I worked for KJ, that I'm also the Hip-Hop Director, and that I also do the Japanese radio show. I found out that he listens to KJ, that he knows when my show is on and that he's heard my promo! Holy cow, this is the coolest mailman ever! So yeah, that was a moral boost for me because honestly, who the hell else listens to my show besides Sydney? I don't really know but have been curious.

Speaking of which, let me take this opportunity to further say just how much I love her. This girl is my everything and then more. She cheers me up when I'm done, instills confidence in me when I have none, trust in me more than I trust in myself and oh yeah that's not even mentioning how beautiful, seductive, desirous and devlish she is. Basically, she gives a whole new meaning to the word "cute", which doesn't even do her justice. Simply hearing her voice is all my brain needs to turn instantly to mush. So yeah, I love her.

It's been an hour into my writing center shift and still no one has come in yet. It makes me wonder what people do when they do get someone in here. I mean, I should be doing my homework but for some reason when I think of homework I get this overall sense of anxiety that drives my attention far, far away in an instant towards the opposite direction. Maybe its because if I thought about what I need to do for homework I would freak the hell out and then realize that I'm wasting my time right now when I should be doing homework. Damn again.

On a positive note, I do enjoy this current station that I'm on right now for this Pandora project, currently listening to the "Miho Hatori" station but a minute ago I was gleefully stuck on the "Takako Minekawa" station. I have know began to think of what I need to do for my classes. I'll go ahead and publish this for now and then come back later to add more to this post.

Making connections...

This week has turned sour within a day’s time, as if my cerebellum were knocked off course by the asteroid of uncertainty. When this has happened in the past, I usually take the same course of action as I have today: sever all connections to academia swiftly and spend the rest of the day in a laden stupor. As of last night, I made the biggest decision this semester yet, by choosing to move back home.

The problem with this last stretch of school left is that it’s so easy to falter and give up, taking a consolation prize of an incomplete or a lowly E for effort when you know that you could have gone on to best the class. When not giving your full potential to the class, you get stuck with a thickening remorse swirling around a deep seeded feeling of regret. This god awful training ground of a class has so far consistently beaten me down because I continue to stop progress and hide behind videogames or movies or tv series to mask my fear of failure. To put so much effort into something and end up failing, I just can’t deal with that. By believing that I am just not using my full potential, I can continue to slump off with each new assignment and challenge, safely securing my ego behind a thick barrier of self-pity.

There’s a vicious cycle that’s perpetuating here and I know the reason behind it all. It’s not the laziness, it’s not the self-doubt, it’s the quest for perfection that inevitably sends people to their doom. It’s for this very reason that I am still in the J-school. To learn how to write consistently good pieces of writing so that I can someday take it to a magazine. But as long as I have this pressure that I put on myself for trying to be the best, I will continue to build everything up to the point where it’s unconquerable and unattainable. Kara pointed this out to me within less than three months of our relationship and it continues to haunt me to this very day.

What I need is help, what I need is change, what I need is absolution from this horrible sin that’s blocked my potential from becoming professional skill. I don’t care how I get to this point, I just need it to happen and happen soon. I know the problem, read about the problem, but I just don’t know how to stop relaying it in my mind over and over again with every single obstacle or challenge that comes my way. From washing my clothes to completing a nine page report, each one is on the same level for me when I make an attempt.

Dedication to the Japanese PVs & Domokun

this goes out to the Japanese artists whose music videos continue to impress and inspire. And oh yeah, who can forget Domokun?

TAKAKO MINEKAWA- PLASH




birth of Domokun plus the early years




Cornelius- Breezin'

Initial Reactions....

Yesterday was quite the day as I wandered about the Kansas City International airport, waiting for a part to be repaired on the plane assigned to my ticket. To make matters....you know, there comes a time when typing no longer appeals to me and I have to go back to writing everything down on paper. My guess is that the soul-less interface between my thoughts and the keyboard become too much for me to handle. I guess there's something to be said for mobility and user-friendliness when it comes down to a writer's personal tastes. Mine you could say revolves around the primitive technology that's carried our civilization for a couple thousand years now. But then there's something to be said for the immediacy of the typed word that offers unlimited opportunities for sharing with others that the handwritten form cannot. A handwritten letter will always be personalized as each hand that writes is as unique and distinct as a snowflake. It also supposedly takes more time to write down our thougts than it does by computer. In the end the artists, no matter what the medium (books, films, design, illustration, music, etc.), must always use the tools they are most comfortable to use.
To continue further on this train of thought, I need look no further for examples than some of my favorite artists and styles of music. The sub-genre known as "breakcore" encompasses some of the most hectic yet addictive beats & rhythms of golden-age hip-hop, drum 'n bass, found sounds and gabba, all wrapped in insanity. The artists who create this style of music often use at home DIY creations of instruments based on their unique way of creating music. A look into drum kits shows us that sometimes its the familiarity with tapping out a rhythm with your fingers is easier and more connected to the brain than plucking a guitar string. In an age where the masses opt for trying to imitate their idols instead of create new art themselves, its easy to forget that art does not always have to follow a certain formula or utilize the same core instruments (guitar, drums, turntables, etc.) in their basic physical structure.
I guess it is for this reason that I will choose to forgo the comuter for a while in exchange for a tab of paper from which to gather my thoughts. Maybe the real reason is that I have become tired of reporting on my daily life ala monotone diary entries. The need for random thoughts and theories on life seem to be more fun to write about than the mundane and trivial. Or maybe its easier for me to keep a diary by paper and pen than it is by keyboard and CPU. In this short amount of time I have gone severely off course in my original intentions for this entry and instead have created a short discourse on the importance of the artist to remember to tailor their methods of creation to their own personality and not be stuck in one-dimensional atmosphere.