Slideshow: Tweed Ride Philadelphia, 11/07/09

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Rumblings: In Indonesia, Phils Are WFC Second Time Around

>>> We hope we’re not there’s-no-such-thing-as-Santa-Claus-ing you here, but you do know, don’t you, that in anticipation of World Series victories, it’s often the case that merch proclaiming both teams is printed up, right? So what shall become of all of those “PHILLIES WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS 2009″ hoodies and t-shirts? They’re going to Indonesia. Same as Brad Lidge. [PBJ]
>>> Confidential to Shane Victorino: When we first heard about you hanging around with Jon Gosselin, we thought it was cute, in that collegiate “Let’s see who can bring the biggest asshole to the party” kind of scavenger hunt way. But come to find out now that you invited dude to your wedding? Words elude us. On the other hand, congrats on the nuptials, my man, and here’s hoping your wife knows exactly what to do with this Gosselin character. (Confine him to poker games and BBQs only, set him up with women you’d like to never speak with again, honey.) [700Level]
>>> And finally, the good/bad/whatever news: One more year of Cliff Lee, Lidge, Ibañez and Eyre to go into the chop shop, and not so much with the Pedro Feliz (probably, though maybe?) and see ya, Brett Myers. Nothing gold can stay, Ponyboy. Nothing gold can stay. [MLB]

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Day Of 1,000 Rockys Directly Coincides With Snuggie Crawl, Leading To Philadelphia’s 57th Stupidest Day Ever

On one hand, it can be taken as encouraging that, these days, if you try to get 1,000 Rockys to show up on the Art Museum steps to promote the new Rocky DVD box set, only a few hundred will show up, and one of them will be Danny Bonaduce and his strange rubber manboobs; on the other, it can only be saddening that even the most bilous hatred spewn towards the Philly Snuggie Crawl was still not enough to shut this down, resulting in what appear to be a bunch of lame breeders carousing in the worst bars known to man and trading favorite quips from The Office. I guess we should just call it even, Philadelphia. (That’s what she said.)

[Photo credit: Paul Drzal]

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This Just In: U2 Unable To Book Return Engagement At The Bijou, Settle For Lincoln Financial Field Instead

Fans of the dying beast that was once known as Stadium Rock, mark your calendars: Monday, July 12, 2010 is the day when Irish-old-guys-dressed-as-Russian-gangsters U2 will come to Philadelphia and fill Lincoln Financial Field with their sweet, pompous, confusing love. This time around, it’s something called the U2 360° Tour, which looks like the band has finally found a way to compete with Rock Band by essentially becoming Rock Band: “With a cylindrical video system of interlocking LED panels, and a steel structure rising 150 feet from the floor over a massive stage with rotating bridges, the band has truly created an intimate 360º experience for concert goers.” It will indeed be truly intimate. Tickets go on sale Friday, November 13 at 10am.

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SEPTA Strike Provokes Awesomest Conspiracy Theory Ever: Meet Your Next Mayor, Ed Rendell!

So, now that the SEPTA strike is over, what have we learned? Well, a few things: One, for sure, is that sometimes, old-school Philly politicking still works — a lot of the credit for the tentative agreement is being thrown good ol’ Bob Brady’s way. (We still won’t trust him with our Internet connection, but whatever.) Another thing is that there should be mandatory obesity, cognitive skills and logic testing for all TWU workers, as savagely evidenced in this video, oddly produced on their own behalf. (You know, they say the first part of getting help is when you accidentally show an entire city that you have a problem; I mean, we should know, after all. And who knows, Rendell might in fact be able to help with this.) And finally, there is a twin-pronged conspiracy theory/parlor game as a result of the SEPTA strike going around, and it goes something like this:

Now, we’re not saying that this theory is anything other than Crazy Old Man In Line For Lottery Tickets Talk, but we must also remember that for more than one hundred years, Crazy Old Man In Line For Lottery Tickets Talk has had a way of becoming Fact here in Philadelphia. Nutter, of course, was presented as a huge break from all of that, and we don’t regret having rallied behind him. We don’t regret our votes. But what we are saying is this: History is knocking, Michael Nutter. If you can’t find a way to improve your stock soon, you may wake up one day in the not-too-distant future to find that you’ve got none left.

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This Weekend: The East Coast Existential Pop Band

FRIDAY:
>>> If your last memory of The Swimmers (check out our re-run of their awesome new video above) is that of an earnest alt-country band with an affection for Beach Boys bounce, you may wanna check in again. People Are Soft is the band’s latest record, which they celebrate tonight at an early (8PM) show at Kung Fu Necktie with The Capitol Years, and it shows off the band’s current vibe: Existential Pop Band. People Are Soft is the kind of record that sounds great on big headphones; it’s world-weary, but not in the old alt-country, too-much-whiskey way. Instead, it’s weary of the actual hyper-overstimulated world that we all actually lives in — this is reflected in the music, which grabs rhythms and movement from everywhere. Along the way, The Swimmers reference Spoon, The Flaming Lips, The Jesus & Mary Chain and any working compressor and pedal they can get their hands on. It’s the sound of running on the steam of everything else that is moving around you, and hoping that will somehow be enough, which is about as honest a sentiment as you’re going to get from anyone these days.
>>> Remember yesterday when we were talking about how, now that baseball season has finally come to a close, you can get back to all the egghead shit you’ve been missing out on when you were stress-drinking and making Black Taco photoshops? This is that stuff: We previewed it the other day, but here’s another friendly reminder: First Person Arts runs through this weekend. Also, check out Ars Nova Workshop Presents: Steven Bernstein’s Millennial Territory Orchestra performs Don Cherry’s “Relativity Suite” at Johnny Brenda’s. We recently caught one of the Ars Nova/JB’s shows and what wonder we did behold: After a few years ago of seeing tons of guitar bands at JB’s, it turns out that this is also a fantastic venue to witness live jazz. Take someone you want to impress, or someone you stopped caring about impressing a long time ago. Either will be… impressed.
>>> And let us not forget First Friday: In addition to all of this stuff, there’s Art In The Age One Year Anniversary Party and First Friday opening, another chance to see Jason Hackenwerth’s The Titan & The Fireflies here at 2424 Studios.
>>> Dance parties, we got ‘em: Philadelphyinz Presents: Hot Mess w/ DJ Apt One and Cosmo Baker is bound to be bouncy at Silk City and It’s 4AM returns with Sammy Slice, this time at Club Samba, that strange-looking heart of darkness at 7th & Girard that you’ve been wondering about for years. Early word on this party is that it’s gonna be a straight-up Werewolf Bar Mitzvah.
>>> Elswhere: Spooky stylists throw the wildest parties, so check out Razor and Blade Presents… Recessionista! at Lucy’s Top Hat; Cock-rock throwbacks Wolfmother play the Electric Factory; and good ol’ TJ Kong & The Atomic Bomb at North Star Bar.

SATURDAY:
>>> Saturday’s a little less insane, good bookings-wise, so take advantage and enjoy some of the more civilized things in life. The Kronos Quartet, for instance, get reallllllllll heady and interpret the work of Steve Reich and Sigur Ros at the Kimmel Center; Amy Millan, Bahamas, and Buried Beds play so so softly at Johnny Brenda’s; Dark Star Orchestra, if you wanna bring it WAY WAY down, is at Electric Factory; and, lest you forget, the Tweed Ride is also going on.

SUNDAY:
>>> Presented without further comment, except to say, “SEE YOU IN HELL”: The Motherfucking Snuggie Crawl.
>>> Elsewhere: Peter Bjorn & John and El Perro del Mar at TLA; a nice local roundup with The Extraordinaires, Dangerous Ponies, Kill You in the Face and Lux Perpetua at Kung Fu Necktie; and, if you’re still frisky (admirable), there’s Night Train at PYT. Thank you, Philadelphia, and good morrow.

Want more? Check out our nightlife listings and our art listings.

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Film Sweat: Goat West, Young Man

RECOMMENDED: At the screening we attended, The Men Who Stare At Goats got more actual LOL-laugh-out-loud laughs than any other movie in recent memory. The best part? Those laughs weren’t cheap; OK, the ones about goats falling dead to the floor because George Clooney was looking at them were kinda cheap, but mostly, these were deep guffaws, coming from a painful place about the absurdity of war and modern-day America. To that end, The Men Who Stare At Goats — an adaptation of Jon Ronson’s book of the same name, which examines the purported experiments by the U.S. Army over the last 50 years in creating “psychic soldiers” — belongs to canon of absurdist works like The Magic Christian, Dr. Strangelove, and so on. Ewan McGregor, Kevin Spacey and Jeff Bridges (of course he’s the ringleader) round out this tale of The New Earth Army, which sought to spread a curious brand of “peace” to prevent conflict, using bits and scraps of ESP, the martial arts, dimestore self-help and the New Age movement. Was any of this real? Probably. Is it hilarious? Absolutely.

ALSO NEW IN THEATERS: The Box, a psychological thriller in which Frank Langella comes to Cameron Diaz and James Marsden and tells them that if they PUSH THIS BUTTON RIGHT HERE, they’ll get a million dollars but someone in the world will die because of it; The Fourth Kind, your standard UFO grossout jive; and Disney’s A Christmas Carol, in which Robert Zemeckis pixilates Jim Carrey as Scrooge.

For more recommendations on films currently in theaters, visit Philebrity’s Film Sweat archive. And click here for movie times.

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Readers Photoshop: “Once More With Feeling”

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Never Mind The Bollocks, Here’s The Artblahg

Here is a shocking revelation for you: The Philly visual art scene, like most location-specific arts or music scenes, is a humid, claustrophobic bubble that is divided into two camps. There are The Supporters, who lavish praise upon a coterie of like minded-artists via not-often-very-critical critics, who seek to build things together and put prestige where there was none before. Then there are The Curmudgeons, who mostly adhere to Groucho Marx’s adage about one never wanting to be a part of a club that would have oneself; you can track reasons for this pose to several emotional responses, including jealousy, bitterness, cynicism or just good old fashioned selfishness or the loathing of other humans that we all, to some degree, share. Both sides kind of have a point, and lest the non-artists among you chortle, don’t kid yourselves: Just about every community of any kind can be (and often is) divided up in exactly this way.

Here in Philly, this has produced a debate that never quite dies within the various fine arts scenes. Do art scenes that are sycophantic/friendly by nature ever produce work of real quality? What’s the role of/damage done by the local critic that only says nice things? And what about conflicts of interest? If we are to be completely honest, this is the critical axis to which Philebrity has been, to some degree, a direct reaction against. (But in our case, most of the focus is on musicians, who are giant babies anyway and have had this coming to them since forever.) We bring all this up as way of setting up the context in which The Artblahg — “A SATIRE ON ARTBLOGS AND THE FOLLIES OF THE ART WORLD” (their caps) — has appeared. Judging from its body-double design and objects of ridicule, its target would seem to be pretty direct: The Artblog, by Roberta Fallon and Libby Rosof. (Shades of Celebridelphia/Philebrity here, too.) Fallon and Rosof have spent years now in the service of disseminating info about the local visual arts scene, and to some, they are heroes; to others, they’re Part of the Problem. If you’re looking for us to weigh in on which side we stand, let’s just say this: These women are dedicated, and have spent what is probably thousands of hours propping up that in which they believe; in our better moments, we try to do the same (you know, when we’re not talking about how Diplo has fallen off). Artblahg has been around for five minutes and isn’t even funny. And trust us, there’s a lot of material they can draw from. On the upshot, this at least will give people something of substance to talk about at all of those First Friday openings tonight in case some of the art is boring or bad. And you know, it just might be.

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Planning Your First Friday? Peep Our Art Listings!

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Slideshow: Girls, Kung Fu Necktie, 11/04/09

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Phashionista: UMAD? Don’t Be!

Hold it right there: Are you folding your Phillies gear and damning it to hell? C’mon ___! Amidst all the recent tragedy Philly has suffered — World Series loss, Septa strike, Soprano-mama’s-boy-cum-Rebublican-fat-fuck as Governor next door — we shouldn’t feel at a total loss. These past two years have been a hell of a ride, making Philly one of the, er, hypest places to be, and more importantly, be from. Rock your locality with one of these fine acrylic laser cut pendants designed by local gal Sharif Pendleton. We said it once today, and we say it again: Your Philadelphia Phillies are, and will very likely remain to be, a historic baseball team. Smile! You’re from Illadelph!

Got a fashion/retail tip for Phashionista? Let us know: tips[at]philebrity[dot]com. And read more Phashionista here.

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And Now, Today’s GOOD NEWS: Just When You Thought That It Didn’t Happen Anymore!

· Awesome upshot of the SEPTA strike, which thus far has been about as anti-Good Motherfucking News as you can get: Based on counts conducted by the Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia yesterday, Day Two of the SEPTA strike saw a 38% increase in bicyclists during rush hour. What! That’s awesome! And there’s more: There was also a 27% increase in the number of women bicycling during the strike. Which means that, even if the math (or armpits) is fuzzy, there is a great likelihood that there are more cute girls on bicycles in the City of Philadelphia now than in any time period since the 1930s. And if there’s a person in the world that doesn’t like a cute girl on bicycle, well, we don’t wanna know them. Hopefully, this will make attendance at this weekend’s Philly Tweed Ride go through the roof. A new day! A new way!

· Good news for artists and the people who feed them: Responding, perhaps, to fears that the recession could put a damper on its fellowships, Pew Fellowships in the Arts has announced that they will continue to award up to 12 fellowships a year of $60,000 each. What’s more, in a break from tradition, Pew will consider applications from originating artists working in any artistic discipline each year. Up until now, if you were an artist wanting to apply for a Pew, you had to wait until the year in the cycle where your discipline came up. No more! Say the Pews: “This change will make it possible for PFA to identify and reward artists of exemplary talent currently working in the region, without waiting for a particular discipline cycle to come around. It also takes into account the fact that many artists work in and across multiple disciplines.” As the t-shirt says, fuck dance, let’s ART!

· And finally, now that baseball is over, you can finally get back to your life now. Tell the truth: You haven’t read a book or watched a movie or listened to a record or went for a walk or drawn a picture or made love or given someone your phone number or done any work in weeks. Let the blessings of autumn be upon you and may your social calendar flourish and here’s welcoming back the life of your mind. THAT IS SOME GOOD GODDAMNED NEWS, PEOPLE!

So there you have it: The world is not totally made of shit. Have you got some good news? If so, send it to tips[at]philebrity[dot]com with “GOOD MOTHERFUCKING NEWS!” in the subject header — we’d love to hear about it.

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Noontime Nuggetz: Evelyn “Champagne” King, “Love Come Down,” Solid Gold, 1982

It is with this post that Philebrity apologizes to its readers for the fact that, in five plus years online, we have not once posted anything about Philly-raised disco chanteuse Evelyn “Champagne” King, who was discovered while working with her mother at Philadelphia International Records as a cleaning woman. She then went on to make awesome songs like this.

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Local Pediatrician At The Center Of Wingnut America’s Current Anti-Vaccine Tantrum

America: We hate facts! And science! Just ask Paul Offit who, just a few years ago, before this country’s War On Reason (of, if you prefer, Operation We All Deserve To Die Because You’re Confused About Jesus), would have been not only patently uncontroversial but also most likely universally revered. Offit is the Maurice R. Hilleman Professor of Vaccinology, Professor of Pediatrics at the University of Pennsylvania and Chief of the Division of Infectious Diseases, and the Director of the Vaccine Education Center at The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. His crime against New Christendom? Inventing vaccines. Vaccines which, in the World Of Reasonable People, have been credited with saving the lives of untold numbers of children. And as the debate rages on about vaccines — especially in this unholy H1N1 moment — Offit has found himself the focus of a level of anti-vaccine furor that would impress even the most hearty abortion-clinic bomber. In this lengthy profile in Wired, Moffit’s — and Reason’s — dilemma is outlined in great detail, but even the pullquote here will suffice: “This isn’t a religious dispute, like the debate over creationism and intelligent design. It’s a challenge to traditional science that crosses party, class, and religious lines.” And given that the debate puts the the wildly unsympathetic Big Pharma and the just-as-wildly-dumb Wingnut America in close quarters, it’s going to get worse before it gets better. As for Philly’s own Dr. Offit, all we can say is: Stay strong, brother, and know that you are in friendly quarters. For better or worse, Philadelphia intellectually seceded the Union a long, long time ago.

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Readers Cameraphone: Stakes In Philadelphia Parking Authority Scavenger Hunt Apparently Rising

Seeing something around town of note? Cameraphone it to: tips[at]philebrity[dot]com.

[Photo credit: PhillyChitChat]

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Tom Knox Finds New Hopeless Enterprise On Which To Spend His Money: The Governor’s Race

Hey, remember Tom Knox? He was the guy who, in the last Mayoral election here in Philly, spent untold dollars on a Democratic campaign that essentially was a ghost vessel for any political ideas whatsoever. Seriously. We spent a year with the man and still have no idea what he could stand for, or in fact, if he is real at all. He is the College Boyfriend of politicians. Here’s the shocker: Even in 2009, he is apparently not out of money yet. Knox — whose hair has gone, in just two years, from Danny Kaye Red to Clintonesque White — has recently mounted a campaign for PA Governor, and as best we can tell, his platform is simple. Knox is pushing the “transparency” buzzword hard, especially when it comes to campaign contributions (PA is still wildly unregulated in this arena, as Bob Brady and others could tell you as they frisk your corporate wallet). But considering that Knox already has more money than God, the platform seems a bit insincere: He’s basically saying, “I’ll stop the admittedly corrupt system and replace it with a situation that could be worse, whereupon only the ungodly rich like me can run. WON’T THAT BE AWESOME?” Sure will, guy. Next Thursday, ironically, there’s a Knox campaign fundraiser at Il Portico with “a donation request of $1000 per person. However, if guests come in a group of four or more, donations will be reduced to $200 per person.” ‘Cos, you know, Rich Uncle Tommy’s got you covered. It’s cash bar, though, which prompts the obvious question: If you can’t even get drunk these days on Tom Knox’s dime, what is PA democracy even for?

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Breaking: SEPTA Regional Train Runs Over Track Worker, Delays And Chaos Ensue

The news on SEPTA continues to get worse: After a train fire yesterday on the regional rail lines, it’s now being reported that, earlier this morning, a rail worker was struck and killed by a moving R2 train. As a result, services are delayed while police complete a preliminary investigation.

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Lessons Learned From Rocky I And Rocky II Or, Sorry, Charlie

Well, that sure was something. And while we can spend the next five months spitting bile at all those whom we believe should be smited (smote?) from the Phillies roster (and oh, how we will do just exactly that), consider this: Your Philadelphia Phillies are, and will very likely remain to be, an historic baseball team. And their work is not even close to being over. While even we can’t believe how hackishly Philly we’re about to sound, think of it this way: The Phillies — these Phillies, whose sweat and grit and true love of the game made for some of the most exciting baseball we’ve ever seen in just this last post-season alone — are not unlike the Rocky saga. Stop rolling your eyes for a second, and bear with us. Rocky I is a meandering parable and the stuff of underdog legend. In the first film, Rock was lucky enough to be there at all; that was a kind of victory, just the heady feeling of being somewhere you’ve never been before and knowing the rest of the world is stymied at just how the hell you got there in the first place. Rocky loses, of course, but the moral is basically the same. Rocky II is more complex: Rocky is married, he’s got a kid on the way, he can’t keep his Trans Am and has to get a job carrying spit buckets, and could die if he’s seriously hurt again. There are expectations; there is a rep to uphold. It’s these kinds of complexities that the made the Phils so compelling to watch this year, in good times and bad: Lidge had a brain cloud, Ibañez and Chooch became stars, Hamels morphed into a travesty and parody of himself, Pedro came along and gave the team a sense of perspective and mortality, and Cliff Lee emerged as a full-on hero. In Rocky II, as you know, Rocky wins. And while of course the Phillies didn’t win the World Series, there are many victories to be celebrated here: The first-ever two successive NL Pennant wins for the Phils; the Mets are but a distant memory; the Phils representing to a whole new generation what post-steroidal baseball should look like; and of course, the simple fact that more people now hate the Yankees than at any other moment in American history. That’s nothing to sneeze at. So we’ll agree with what Charlie said last night: “We will be back here.” Fuck yeah we will. Bring on Mr. T.

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