An Epic Journey of Amazing Self-Discovery, or Finding Old Shit

I logged onto my Tripod account for the first time in years today. If you're unaware, Tripod is a free web hosting service. If you remember Angelfire and/or Geocities from back in the day, that's much like what Tripod was. I was doing this because I felt like re-teaching myself some HTML and CSS, skills that I've long since forgot. Kind of a disappointment, because gotDAMN there are a lot of coding/development/etc. jobs out there at the moment.

Anywho. I logged into my old Tripod account and found two things, one was the website I created on Adobe Dreamweaver for my old band Downtown Owl. Very basic, but looked pretty cool. Whatever.

But I also stumbled upon an old site I had created called Infinity Over Infinity. It wasn't particularly well designed or anything. Instead, it was very much like Racecar Brown: a place where I had decided to write down every thought that came into my head, regardless of topic.

More after the jump.

A Comparative Mirror

Comparison is a tool used by a lot of critics. In some respects its a lazy tool, like putting together Ikea furniture with an electric screwdriver. And, in just the same way, it's useful. Giving a more well-known basis for comparison for a sound or a sight can intrigue a reader into giving something a look and in a way that's your job as a critic: to explain to the uninitiated the background behind the artist, the piece, and what to expect when you experience that piece. It doesn't make sense to review a Coldplay record without at least touching on their obvious sonic touchpoints (Radiohead, U2, blah blah blah).



My problem with comparison in criticism-- my problem with criticism in general-- is when it becomes personal.