I’ve no idea how this only has 50 views, or how I missed that this was posted finally - 2 months ago. I give the gentlest “whoo” like the crazy northwest owls to this lengthy talk about social media in the lives of John Roderick, Jonathan Coulton, Merlin Mann, Scott Simpson, and the ever classy John Hodgman. All helping people.
I’m pretty sure that people who hate cities just haven’t yet confronted the fact that they are hairless pig-insects living short, striving lives among the writhing masses of their fellow swine, all of them stacked high in crudely fashioned dirt shit-heaps.
But, while the whole story of how John first ended up sleeping at our house one night in 2002 has never been told in the exhaustive detail it deserves, I can tell you that this 5-year-old video captures the first time I officially interviewed John as an actual thing.
I like it a lot, and the unintentional genesis of Roderick on the Line is clearly in there.
Alongside John’s 2011 interview for Back to Work, you’ll definitely get the feel for why we thought chatting each week might be a useful way for John to help many, many people.
Some albums you can listen to while you’re having sex and some albums you can’t (I’m looking at you, John Vanderslice). Some music makes you want to drive in the desert, some makes you want to sit and cry in the rain. I’d be willing to bet that most music writers listened to Elliott Smith’s Either/Or more times this year than they did to Kanye West. The more obsessed we are with awards and lists—the further we get from truly appreciating things—the less we’re really living.
Exactly 2 years ago today I was in Egypt, feeding the camels*. (I worry I watched that corner of the video a little too intently.)
Half my immediate family is there right now. In solidarity (or, maybe, really because I was feeling a little better and the band of my sister’s sister’s-in-law was playing a gig there and I was looking for a surrogate family feeling), yesterday I hung out in the Egyptian exhibit’s “contemporary Egyptian living room” which was basically a statistical average of every living room I’ve ever been in where Arabic was spoken. It’s spot-on homey.
I had heard another song about the week between in an ad the other day, but it is relatively terrible.