Contemporary Snobbery

A world view sporting an arched eyebrow.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Somewhere Outside of Amarillo

All great things start with a single idea. Democracy, Love, TV, books, pop tarts. Every one of those things started off as an idea. A simple one at first, but then multiplied by a thousand variables and obstacles, until the awesomeness of the pop tart leapt from that first toaster. My first road trip began with such an idea.

My girlfriend, April, who had just been kicked out of the seminary my friends and I were still attending, had left in such a hurry that she went without her car. It was still in Dallas while she had returned to Bakersfield, CA. Sitting dormant, outside of a friend’s house, it rested and rusted until winter break began to loom in our minds on campus.

I’m not sure the first time I remember thinking about a roadtrip, maybe it was the scene in The Blues Brothers when Jake and Elwood fly over the hill in that big black car of theirs. Maybe it was that Willie Nelson song “On the Road Again.” And though it has disappeared somewhere into my memory,  some artifact of culture inspired my mind to romance the idea of sitting in a car, sweating into an uncomfortable seat, watching the world flash by 6 frames at a time.

We were down the road 5 hours when I first started getting sleepy. It was the lull of the road, the tires on the asphalt, the crunch of the bugs on the windshield, the clicks of the rocks spitting out from our wheels. Each little sound was a waterfall that filled my ears and pushed me closer and closer to sleep.

Dan tolerated it at first, but soon he was angry.

“William! What the fuck, man? We just got started!”

“Yeah, I know. Jesus.”

The minutes spun on like the scenery outside, trees started off as twigs in the distance, then grew before our eyes to towering piles of vegetation, then spiraled back to birth in our rearview.

It made me think of my own life, the decisions that often clouded the landscape before me, the fear of them growing as they neared me. Then, as they passed, they became less and less important.

My decision to go to this school in Dallas; It had seemed so important at the time of my graduation. I was the son of a preacher (part time, anyway). I needed to follow in his footsteps. And my father’s footsteps were miles deep. Drowning in the undertow of his shoes had sucked the will out of me to do anything other than signing up for ministerial school and the life that would follow.

But was it really what I wanted? Was this the life I was really hoping to live? The decision had grown up in the distance and in fear I made a choice that, now, as it spun off behind me into a blur, seemed a huge error, made in fear.

Even if I wanted to follow my father’s path, would it be in this place? This was not a school for the maverick style faith my father had planted into me. Obedience and subjection forced every student there to give up the things that made them individuals and move towards the only role allowed for them, at least for the next four years. We were all marching lock step, but my pace was already faltering after just one semester.

These thoughts, tinted with doubt and fear, swirled in my head, as we drove silently through the Texas Panhandle. Only as the tires crushed through gravel did I notice that we were off the Interstate and pulling into a gas station.

The gas station was butted against a gift shop that sold “Texas” knickknacks: bolos, cow skulls, Indian dream catchers, and a variety of other junk no one in their right mind would buy. But tourists are rarely in their right mind. Dan, George, and I wandered the rows of southwestern t-shirts, spotted with lassos and lone cowboys. As we passed the end of the row, just as we were giving up on finding anything worth wasting money on, I spotted something I couldn’t resist. Right mind be damned!

“Dude, Ponchos!”

Dan gave me the raised eyebrow and slight sigh and turned to look.

These weren’t slickers for the occasional shower, which, by the looks of the terrain, had been sore missed this year. No, these were Clint Eastwood style ponchos. Weaved in patterns that would hurt even the most blurred of eyes. Within minutes Dan, whose enthusiasm was only bolstered after I offered to pay, and I were walking out of the door of the shop, ponchoed up and ready for the road. The life of the cowboy for us!

Along with our ponchos, a decision, influenced by my sleepiness, was made to purchase a 3-liter bottle of Mountain Dew and a bottle of No-Doz. Over the next 20 miles or so, I sloshed back 6 of the pills, nestled in heaping mouthfuls of sugary soda. 10 minutes later, I was asleep, seat in the reclined position, leaning against the window and the rushing landscape.

I didn’t dream much on that road in Texas. My head was full of hope and confidence. Life was a roadmap covered with places to go, people to see, things to do. Life was connecting the dots and deciding where in the world to go. What was next? Where would I wake up tomorrow? 

I slept fitfully. Dan was annoyed by my suspected comfort and repeatedly punched me to insure I was not enjoying myself too much. After the assaulting continued long enough for bruises to form, I gave up on sleeping and sat forward in my seat, alternating my gaze between the road and the fist that would no doubt find me, if I dared to doze off in it’s presence.

This game of cat and mouse, played out in that car, sliding across the state, was a microcosm of Dan and mine’s relationship. He was a bully. I was a cow. He, a bully in every sense of the word, was strong-minded and determined to sway anyone that dared near him to his side. He used guilt, fear, and intimidation to get his way and stay in charge.

Dan was neither the first nor the worst person to act like that. All of us, at some point or another, have been faced with the decision to push around a weaker person. It is not always easy to resist the urge to get one’s way without regard for the lesser person. Dan had been faced with that decision and chosen the role of superior. I didn’t understand that then, and I don’t blame him for that decision now. 

But, as he played his role, so I played mine. Empty of anything to stand up for, I bought into the entire bill of sale. Whatever Dan promoted, I swallowed whole. I had given up my relationship with my father and the rest of my family to maintain this parasitic one with Dan. My father would later beg me to resist hanging out with Dan and look for anyone else to call friend, but I ignored his pleas.

So I accepted the fact that Dan could and would hit me. Much like a battered wife begins to believe that she deserves the abuse of her husband, I began to take his beatings and badgering as the normal interchange between two close friends. Not until much later would I realize the stupidity of my decision.

Sometime just outside of Amarillo, the snow began to fall. Not like it does in a snow globe, with enough sparkle to be cute and pretty. No, this was thick, spikey pieces of ice that swooped and darted on each gust of fresh wind. Lightly at first, but heavier and heavier until the wind shield wipers lost their effectiveness and became over-grown icicles pushing mounds of snow back and forth across our line of vision.

Dan was from southern California, so he was obviously well conditioned for this sort of weather. He leaned over the wheel, gripping it tightly, trying to make sense of the blinding whiteness of the road. The trees and overgrowth around the Interstate began to blend in, catching more and more of the downpour. Soon it was nothing more than one white, featureless blur.

As if the snow wasn’t bad enough, nightfall descended upon the ever-fading roadway and the going began to get even more difficult. I sat in the passenger seat, feeling useless and without anything to say. My father’s cautioning before the trip came back to my mind and I began to see the snow as an omen of bad fortune. “This is what happens to all those that disappoint their fathers, SNOW!” Each movement from the wipers was like an icy dagger headed towards my heart. Maybe this was all a big mistake. Maybe my dad was right. Maybe I was wrong.

But then, the trucks around us began to slow, their hazard lights flashing. Something was up. A cop drove slowly past the line of cars that had built up in the swirling maelstrom of winter’s wrath. Dan rolled down his window and asked what was going on.

“We are closing the road until this snow stops falling. It’s not safe during the night in this type of weather.”

Dan and I looked at each other as he slowly eased the car onto the shoulder behind a semi. I caught sight of George in the rear view, doing the same, two trucks back. All the timetables were shifting in the face of winter, and there was little any of us could do but park the cars, sleep, and wait for the morning to come.

I pulled the poncho around me, wishing I had packed a jacket. But hell, my destination was Bakersfield and needing something warm to wear hadn’t even crossed my mind. My suitcase was stuffed with shorts and t-shirts, and little else. Soon my eyes slowly drifted closed and sleep, like a cold mist, settled onto my shivering and under-dressed body.

“William.”

“William!”

“Wake the fuck up!”

It seemed like a dream at first, the setting was all wrong and someone had left the air conditioning way too low.

“Dude, stop snoring!”

Oh, now I remembered. Trip to California, snow, side of the road, trying to sleep, maybe this was the wrong decision, got it.

“Sorry. I snore.”

Dan didn’t look good and his mood was rotten to match.

“Then get out of the car and let me sleep at least a couple of minutes.”

I looked out into the night. The snow was falling as heavy as ever, and getting out of the car seemed as inviting as stepping into a freezer for a walk, but he was the driver, so I waited for him to step out and allow me to clamber over the stick shift and out into the night.

I stood there, in the glittering blackness, illuminated by the intermittent blinking of a million hazard lights.  The snow fell all around me, a blanket to cover the jagged scar of the road. The quiet flow of the frozen water hitting the ground made a dull hum that competed with the rattle and shaking of the semis lined up along the side of the road. 

Many times people say that something feels like a scene from a movie and it makes sense. Most movies are meant to be like real life, so at times something we experience will match up with some scene from some movie we watched some night in some theatre.

But in this case, it did feel like a movie. The lighting, the thought processes in my head, the little sounds I heard, the feeling of the night, it felt like some director was just about to yell “Cut!” and I would exit the stage and plop down into a canvas chair. It was too perfect, too in focus, too centered in the frame. Too much like film to be real life.

But it was real life, and I was standing outside a Volkswagen Fox wedged into a row of 18-wheelers on the interstate somewhere between the two states of Texas and New Mexico on a road trip with my two closest friends to California during Christmas. It was real life.

And so I waited for dawn in the snowy night. I walked up and down the line of cars, avoiding the looks of the truckers from their double-decker rigs.  George was fast asleep in the front seat of the Malibu, so I left him alone. Dan had finally settled in and was also out cold. Cold was an apt description. The frost was creeping up the windshield, a grisly hand of Christmas past, trying to choke out our good feeling and well wishes for this trip.

As the sun broke over the Interstate, cops passed by giving us the all clear.  I rushed to get back into the car and back on the road. Dan looked rough: red-splotches covered his face, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from leaning against the seatbelt. His lips were a light blueish tint and every two miles or so, I could hear him strangling a cough between his lips. But, at least we were on our way again.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Out to Sea

by Dan Vaughn

My father was a boat captain before I was born. His boat was based out of Port Aransas, Tx and each day he would get up early in the morning to take guided fishing tours out into the Gulf of Mexico. Obviously, I wasn’t around for the day to day of this lifestyle, but I always thrilled to hear him tell stories at social gatherings. My favorite was about getting caught in a hurricane while out on the Gulf. His boat lost power and he was left at the mercy of the seas. He described the waves towering over his tiny craft and how he would turn the boat up into the crest to ride it out. Eventually he was rescued by another boat out on the water that night, but knowing that everything worked out in the end didn’t stop me, as a young man, from listening to each retelling as if it were my first time hearing it.

  My father’s stories certainly helped me fall in love with the idea of sea travel, even if I would stay on land for most of my life. That love of the sea certainly showed up in my favorite book of all time, Moby-Dick, and my favorite of the Chronicles, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. For those of you decrying my lack of italics, it’s because the name of a ship is always italicized...until it ends up in a title of a book (also italicized). Therefore, the ship’s name becomes de-italicized. This paragraph is clearly an homage to snobbiest of the English snobs. Obviously, I digress.

  The Voyage involves only two of the original Pevensie brood, Lucy and Edmund. Along for the ride is their cousin, Eustace, an annoying, sniveling boy who must grow up in order to survive the trails of Narnia. The three children join the crew of the Dawn Treader as they travel East, exploring the Islands of the Narnian Ocean. The story focuses on the maturity development of the children, particularly Eustace, as they travel island to island, facing dangers and experiencing adventures. One of the most beloved of all the Chronicles’ characters, the talking mouse Reepicheep, is a prominent fixture in the book. In some ways the movie does him an injustice as he is far too cute and cuddly. I cannot deny that a mouse is cute in some ways, but Reepicheep very much wants to be taken seriously. 

  The plot layout of The Voyage is a combination of both Lewis’ studies at Oxford and his Irish heritage. The literary concept of a sea voyage seeking enlightenment or personal growth is certainly a traditional plot device. In the Irish literary tradition, this type of tale is an Immram. These tales typically involve a hero setting out in a boat to find adventures on different islands, always to the West of Ireland. Lewis, being Irish, as well as a scholar, was no doubt well aware of this literary style and used it with great success. Lewis’ clearly dipped into his own background when creating The Dawn Treader and his passion for the sea bleeds through on every page. The joys of youth often influence an adult’s art.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Parallel Universes and the Young Mind

When you are ten years old, not everything is easily understood. Even now, at the age of 33, there are many things that I have a hard time wrapping my mind around. Of course, on the course of 23 years, the number of things I do not understand has dramatically decreased, at least I would like to think so. Still on my list is the electoral college, the proper use of its vs it’s, and how many shooters actually killed JFK. But at 10, just beginning to read the second novel, Prince Caspian, of the greatest children’s series ever, The Chronicles of Narnia, the thought of parallel universes was an especially difficult concept to comprehend. Even now, I can’t really describe how they work or if they could exist. I’m no physics major.

  With the first novel finished in the set, I cheerfully crashed into the second, rushing to return to the land of Narnia. The book begins as the first one did, with the 4 Pevensie children in England. The War is over and the children are awaiting the train. Just as they are about to board, they are sucked back into Narnia. But it isn’t the Narnia they left behind, with their court and courtiers, their halls decorated with banners and paintings, and their closest friend, the near deity lion, Aslan. No, they have been returned to a land full of ruins, ruled by a rough crowd of foreigners who subjugate talking animals and exploit the inhabitants of Narnia. This isn’t their Narnia, this is a Narnia 1,300 years in the future.

  Now try giving that to a 10 year old. The children are only a year older, yet all their friends in Narnia are long since dead, vanished into the stuff of myths and legends. Everything they and, by extension, I, the reader, have known about Narnia is no more. I remember being stunned as a child, incredibly disappointed that Mr. Tumnus was no more. But the children and their readers must soldier on and, soon after arriving, save a dwarf from being executed. He lays out the situation in Narnia and recruits them to join in the fight against the oppressive regime. The rest of the story is one of incredible struggle against long odds and eventual triumph. 

  Lewis described the book as “restoration of the true religion after a corruption.” And while some readers may cringe at such religious overtones, I think the broader point is that Narnia has fallen from its original glory and must be rescued. Prince Caspian is a beautiful book that describes a country in decline much in need of a rescuer, or a set of rescuers. And while parallel universes may not move at the same speed, the arc of the Chronicles continues smoothly in this second book of the series. 

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

An Umbrella-Carrying Fawn

by Dan Vaughn

There is some debate as to which book is actually “the first” book in the Chronicles of Narnia. If sorted by publishing date, its The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. However, if considering the chronology of the story it is Magician’s Nephew. Up till 1994, the publishers had always gone with the publishing date to place the books in order. That year, the books passed from one publisher to another and, among the nerdiest of the nerds, a rift developed. Purists argued that the original order, while newcomers to the series saw the validity of a chronological ordering. While Lewis was still alive, he seemed to dismiss the issue as unimportant, pointing out that he each time he finished a book, he assumed it to be the last. So to settle this, let me delve into my own experience. The set of books my parents owned were from the early 80’s, making the beginning of my journey a wardrobe, which is where we will begin our discussion.

The novel, and the series, begins with four children leaving London to live in the country due the Nazi attacks during World War II. Lewis had first-hand knowledge of this experience, his house being used as a safe haven for children during that time. The four children, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie are shipped out to live with an older gentleman, Professor Kirke. One day, while playing hide and seek, Lucy stumbles through the back of a wardrobe into a snowy forest and discovers the land of Narnia. Soon, all four of the children are in the world, fighting both for and against the White Witch, who holds the land under a snowy spell. Eventually, Aslan, a lion deity-type, plays a major role in defeating the witch’s magic and returning Narnia to its fantastical essence. 

The biggest complaint and praise of this novel is the obvious Christian allegory. The book is chock full of Christian elements like betrayal, sacrifice and redemption, particularly in the character of the very Christ-like Aslan. My only defense of this is that the book is also packed with other literary and religious references often ignored by critics. Norse and Greek myths, English folklore, and even Aesop’s Fables all dance within the novel. When Lewis was in Oxford studying literature, he clearly soaked up a wealth of future Narnian characters.

When C.S. Lewis was 14, he happened to see a painting of a fawn, carrying a stack of packages and holding an umbrella. The image stuck with him and was the basis for Mr. Tumnus and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Very similarly, I read this book as a child of ten and its words created a desire within me, eventually growing into an unquenchable thirst for great literature. 

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

C.S. Lewis and The Chronicles

by Dan Vaughn

I have written before about my love of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia. How my parents had made me wait to read them until I was capable of appreciating the books effectively. They were so enticing, seven books all packaged within their own little cardboard holder, decorated with the cover art of the novels. I ripped through those books once the proverbial leash was removed, devouring them with a quickness previously unseen. I was young, just beginning my journey into reading, when this series was handed to me. Now, looking back almost 30 years, I can see that this series was the reason I fell in love with reading. It sparked my imagination, allowing me to embrace the wonder of great writing. Had I missed that boxed set on my brother’s shelf, who knows if reading would play such an important role in my life?

The author of the series, C.S. Lewis, is a literary giant in the 20th century. Born in Ireland at the turn of the last century, Lewis relocated to England at a young age. Alienated and lonely due to his accent, he began to read and, in the process, fell in love with Nordic myths and the beauty of nature. It should be no surprise that many of the characters within Narnia faintly resemble the mythological characters that fascinated him as a youth.

After enrolling in Oxford in 1916, Lewis volunteered to serve in the British Army during World War I. His service eventually found him on the front lines, suffering through the immense perils of trench warfare. His troop was hit by a shell from British artillery, leaving him injured severely enough to be removed from active duty. He served the rest of the war in England.

After the war, he reenrolled in Oxford and completed his studies, earning multiple degrees in Latin, English and Philosophy. While previously disinterested in faith, his friendship with fellow literary genius, J.R.R. Tolkien, led to his conversion to theism. From this point on, the majority of his writing focused on his faith and communicated it through essays, novels and poetry. Lewis’ logic and writing ability shine in his approach to his faith, communicating in such an academic way that even the most ardent opponent is left appreciating his approach. His Chronicles of Narnia are by far his most popular works, written over a five year period only ten years before his death. Unfortunately, Lewis’ death was met with little fanfare or public mourning, as he died on November 22, 1963, the same day as President Kennedy’s assassination.

So to honor this gifted author, one who inspired the imagination of this writer at age ten, I will break apart the amazing seven books that compose the Chronicles and discuss them, individually and as part of the series. Hopefully my articles will inspire you to go out and find that muse that will spark your own love of reading. A life-long love that will drive the engine of your imagination and your consumption of the written word.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

The Summer Break...

The summer break is just about done.

Good thing, my toes are pretty wrinkled.

See you all in three weeks.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

CONCACAF Point/Counter Point

This article is a counter point to Robert Armando López's article on Monterrey, found here.

By Dan Vaughn

When this year’s CONCACAF (Confederation of North, Central American and Caribbean Association Football) Champion’s League kicked off, there was little reason to hope for a winner to emerge from the MLS entries. Two of the entries, Toronto FC and Seattle, lost 7 of their combined 12 matches, both getting knocked out during group play. That left Columbus and Salt Lake as the two remaining MLS squads in the competition, with Real winning their group over past two-time runner-up (and Mexican superpower) Cruz Azul. But with two teams emerging from each group, the Mexicans still looked to be the best bet, with 4 of the remaining 8 teams in the tournament. Of course, while the modern Champions League format is brand new (just 3 years old), each time the final has been one Mexican team versus another.

It was a mixed bag of luck for the MLS in the bracket draw. For one, Columbus and Real would play each other in the first round. This reduced the chances for a MLS champion. Secondly, the other half of the bracket was all Mexican teams. This guaranteed a Mexican rep in the final. But on the other hand, there were some positives: whichever American team won would play one of the lesser squads (either Saprissa or Olimpia) in the semifinals and the Mexican teams could beat the shit out of each other, hopefully weakening their chances in the Finals.

  After a draw in Columbus, RSL had a flurry of goals at home, winning the match 4-1 (Javier Morales scoring two goals). On the other side of their bracket, Saprissa won both legs, advancing to play RSL in the semifinals. After winning the first leg, RSL lost the second, but still advanced to the finals on aggregate 3-2.

  Did the odds stack up well for Monterrey at the opening leg? Absolutely, the Mexican teams have dominated in their home stadiums. However, with the game headed to a 2-1 win for Monterrey, another Morales goal (this one in the 89th minute), turned a loss into a draw for RSL. Now, the odds are definitely in Real’s favor, headed home with an away draw in their backpocket. Real has played well at Rio Tinto, setting records in the MLS with home win streaks. While they have lost a vital midfielder, Kyle Beckerman, to injury, I still believe RSL can win, should win, will win.

  What began as a dream, a MLS CONCACAF Champions League Champion (say that three times!), has come down to tonight’s match. Real’s path is exactly what it should be, beating a Mexican team for the Championship. Soccer, in North America, has always been dominated by Mexico. Now is the time for MLS to flip the script.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Sitting Down With: Bulletproof Tiger

By Randall Monty

Bobby Miracles is psyched: "There's something in the air nowadays, El Paso is turning into something different." He continues unprompted, a quickly recognizable theme, "It's new air, it's new El Paso!" Miracles, along with Jean-Luc Duvalier, make up Bulletproof Tiger, an "electornica, rock/synth group" from El Paso, Texas. As Miracles's words convey, the pair are rather excited about the burgeoning El Paso music scene - they're also amped about their fans, about eating in El Paso (Ripe and the Tap were the first places they named), and this week at least, about the prospect of playing the first Neon Desert Music Festival (April 30, Downtown El Paso). The enthusiasm is the second thing you notice about Bulletproof Tiger.

  The first thing you notice is the masks. They're hard to miss, really; the duo of Miracles (guitar) and Duvalier (drum machine, synth, keyboards) are never seen in public without the bright orange plastic replicas of their titular animal. The headpieces call to mind an early-80's Saturday afternoon TV movie set on the Indian Subcontinent, or perhaps some tacky painted glass decoration from your grandmother's living room. Not surprisingly, at this early stage of the Bulletproof Tiger story, the masks are consistently among the first things they are asked about, and since the location of my conversation with them was dictated by their adornments (tiger masks don’t translate to the bar very well, apparently), I felt kind of obligated to begin our talk on that topic. This turned out to be a fitting starting point, as understanding the masks is key to understanding the larger mission of the band. "Our music is all instrumental," says Duvalier in his comparatively drawn-out way. "It inspired us to make an animalistic sound… two animals growing with each other, growling, arguing… the way we heard it, we wanted people to see it."

  Miracles, the more effervescent of the pair, adds, "the fact that we have tiger masks is a symbol for nature. As a society, we're attached to technology and distanced from nature… let's go back to nature, let's go back to jungle sounds." If an El Paso-based artist name-dropping (climate-dropping?) the jungle initially comes across as out of place, the connection is quickly explained via Bulletproof Tiger's combination of local and transnational awareness. To wit, our conversation had a brief derailing about the use of English-language grammatical structures and punctuation rules in Spanish-named restaurants in El Paso. As applies to their music, Bulletproof Tiger tap into an international consciousness of hybridity of genres, styles, and cultures, the two members playing off one another in an organic and germane fashion. The sound itself is jubilant in its organized chaos, reminiscent of early-century Daft Punk at their spazziest, or perhaps the more guitar-laden parts of the first Ratatat record. In any event, it's a logical addition to a festival line-up with acts coming from Brazil, Canada, Venezuela, as well as various points in Mexico and the United States.

  The Juarez/El Paso metropolitan region is a literal metaphor for the meeting of nations and people, and about half the acts playing Neon Desert have ties to the region. There is a lineage of borderland musicians appropriating the localized issues of the border and applying them to their music, a compulsion that Bulletproof Tiger accept. "Musicians have a responsibility to promote a good message, especially if it's going to help the city and the people," says Miracles, adding in a brief moment of  moderation, "Doggone it, people believe in music."

  Bulletproof Tiger are scheduled to play the Mattress Firm Stage at 3:45. They're also playing an after party at the San Carlos Building (~11 PM) with Designer Drugs, the Black and White Years, and the DA. A limited-edition 7" will be available at a special party this June, and their debut full-length, Year of the Tiger, is expecting a July release.

Bulletproof Tiger on Soundcloud

Bulletproof Tiger on Facebook

Photo credit to Bulletproof Tiger.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

CONCACAF Point/Counter Point

This article is meant to be a point/counter point. This is the point. Dan Vaughn's counterpoint, pro-Real Salt Lake is here. 

By Robert Armando López

From ten different countries, twenty-four teams have now been whittled down to two. Though lacking the glamor of it’s European, African, or South American counterparts, the CONCACAF Champions League tournament has it’s share of drama. The tournament gathers teams from North and Central America and the Caribbean, and this year, CF Monterrey (the Rayados as they are also known due to their kit’s trademark blue and white vertical stripes) from Mexico will face off against tournament newcomers Real Salt Lake from the United States. This is the first time since 1998 that the final will feature an American team facing off against a rival from South of the border, and the first time in 11 years that an MLS team has made it to the final.

At stake is not only the sizable trophy to be lifted at the end of the second leg next week; also up for grabs is automatic entry into that most exclusive of football tournaments: the Club World Cup. The winner here will face off against the rest of the world’s continental elites from December 8 – 18 in Japan. In 2000, the LA Galaxy went on to win the two-legged final (although the tournament was known as the CONCACAF Champions Cup then), but before the Club World Cup got underway in Spain, the event was canceled.

The current champions of Mexico’s Primera Division, Monterrey, will be a difficult opponent for Real Salt Lake. During this tournament, Monterrey has shown to have a stingy defense (they’ve allowed one or no goals in eight of ten Champions League games), and are so far undefeated in the tournament. The first leg will be played at Estadio Tecnológico, in Monterrey, where the Rayados are 5-0-0 for the tournament. However, last year Real Salt Lake went to Mexico City to take on Cruz Azul in an earlier round of this tournament. No American team had ever won in the capital city before and RSL barely lost 5-4 in a rain-soaked deluge (check the remarkable second half here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JuS-mDJSdqo).

Real Salt Lake will have their work cut out for them on the defensive side as well. Forward Aldo de Nigris has participated in five CONCACAF fixtures this season, scoring four times, and sixteen goals over all this season. Even more dangerous, Humberto Suazo, the bald-headed Chilean forward whose return to Monterrey (he had been on loan to Real Zaragoza in Spain) for the 2010-11 seasons has sparked an offensive resurgence with the team resulting in twenty-one goals in twenty-eight games for the striker in all competitions.

Monterrey should pull this one out. Real Salt Lake have a tough row to hoe, there is a long history of Mexican dominance for the tournament, having won twenty-six of fourty-four tournaments. I am biased toward Monterrey as they were my first franchise team on FIFA 10. It will be an exciting tie nonetheless.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Upton Sinclair and Dating

By Dan Vaughn

(Last week, I began a series writing about specific books and their significance in my memory. This is part 2. Part 1 is here.)

In the fall of 1999, I enrolled at the University of Texas Pan American. I had been kicked out of ministerial school the year before and was languishing in a janitorial job at a local factory. That first semester, More time was spent in Fatman & LittleBoy’s (a coffee shop) playing cards and listening to music than any amount of studying I should have been doing and when finals were done I was lucky to only have failed two classes (the other two grades were a C and a D, though I wonder how I could possibly have earned those). I wonder what my father and mother must have thought that December. They were aware of my intelligence and abilities and I can’t imagine how frustrated they must have been. If I ever have a son, I hope I have half my parent’s patience.

So with the Winter break done, I enrolled for another semester of punishment. After the embarrassment of the Fall, I decided I would do things differently. Several significant events helped my grades that second semester. 1. My brother died midway through the semester from complications of diabetes. He hadn’t held me back from studying, but the sudden loss of my 19-year old brother made me reassess my life and goals. Suddenly everything became more significant and time-sensitive. Who knew if I was next? 2. Fatman & Littleboy’s closed down due to mismanagement and drug abuse. I will always have fond memories of that shop in Edinburg, but it was, honestly, very poorly managed. Too many of the managers were snorting the profits and its eventual collapse was inevitable.

  So with a renewed sense of importance and a lack of distraction, I began to study instead of wasting time and added some friends who were focused on their studies. This group hung out at the “tables,” a set of picnic tables outside the SBSC building. I spent hours beneath the trees reading for classes, talking about philosophy, and mocking the hippies playing hacky sack (and yes, that is how you spell it).  I was becoming a different person, I wasn’t just attending college, I became a student. Then after all this change in my life, two things happened that semester that blended the worlds of literature and relationships.

  One day, mid-semester, I found a copy of The Jungle by Upton Sinclair at the tables. It was a paperback with the cover ripped off, a sure sign of being a giveaway from a bookstore. Most stores, when taking a paperback out of inventory, don’t want to ship the whole book back to the publisher because it isn’t worth the shipping. Instead, they remove only the front cover (and the barcode inside it) and return a box of covers for credit instead. The meat of the book is recycled, thrown away, or given to an employee. So this book looked like trash, missing its cover and part of the spine, but, in reality, everything written within the book was still there.

  I asked around for its owner, got no response, and decided to read it till someone asked for it. Within a week of my discovery, I met a young woman while reading my book one afternoon. Weighing over 300 pounds can make a man timid when it comes to women, and I was. So we talked each day for a week before I asked for her number. I didn’t have paper with me, so I scrawled her name and number across the cover page of the book. That phone number led to a relationship that lasted 5 years and spanned my entire college experience. The book, on the other hand, would stir a life-long respect for activist literature and the change that can be inspired by a great book.

  Maybe I don’t need to discuss the contents of the book because they are so well-known, but I will regardless. Sinclair’s novel describes the meat processing plants in Chicago, through the story of a close-knit family struggling to survive the squalor of a turn-of-the-century industrial city. While the shocking aspects of the book seemed farfetched to many (including Teddy Roosevelt), the conditions of the novel were based on Sinclair’s undercover research. The lack of sanitation, concern for workers, and quality control mentioned within the novel led to the founding of the USDA and a complete shakeup of the meat industry in the United States.

  Sitting at the tables reading a book about such horrifying conditions and the suffering of a fictional family moved me emotionally and made me appreciate the talents of its author and the changes he spurred. Muckraking isn’t usually my cup of tea, but Sinclair’s style and focus caught me off-guard, in a good way.

  I never found the owner of the book, so I kept it.

  Oh, and that number I wrote across the cover.

This article, in a much shorter version, ran in the McAllen Monitor 4/26/11.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Your Favorite ________ 6 Months from Now

By Roberto Armando López

Thank god for the Rural Alberta Advantage!  For the last week in March, I struggled to decide which of the new albums I’d heard were good enough to be album of the month.  For a few days there, I’d finally settled on the Strokes’s new album, Angles.  But settled was the appropriate word.  It felt right, it has that Strokes/80s Post-Punk sound we’ve all come to love and expect; and, given the name of our blog...well: “Of course a blog with Snob in its title would pick these pre-hipster hipsters.”  And, in the interest of journalistic integrity, I should note that the Strokes album wasn’t the only new album I heard and therefore was not chosen due to lack of competition or a matter of convenience.  I listened to new albums by Wye Oak (too blah), Peter Bjorn & John (pretty good), Lupe Fiasco (too Kanye-wannabe, though Til I Get There is the hot shit), the Dodos (not enough anything), J. Mascis (meh), Nicole Atkins (came out in February but it’s pretty great!  And she sounds like Jenny Lewis), the Pains of Being Pure at Heart (doing their own 80s thing), the remix of Gil Scott-Heron’s I’m New Here by the XX’s Andrew XX (surprisingly pointless), and Anna Calvi, which is strange but not awesome.  And in the last week of March, I received—but didn’t listen to—new CDs from the Raveonettes, the Mountain Goats, the Kills, Hunx & His Punx, Lucinda Williams, and Papercuts.  I just didn’t have the time, reason being: I couldn’t stop playing the Rural Alberta Advantage’s new album, Departing, which, upon first listen, easily shoved the Strokes from “Album of the Month” status.

I’ve often suggested that the RAA are what Neutral Milk Hotel would have sounded like had Jeff Mangum never read the Diary of Anne Frank.  I still hold to that.  And the RAA seem to confirm this thesis on the opening track, “Two Lovers,” wherein Nils Edenloff sings “And If I ever hold you again / I will hold you tight enough to crush your veins / and you will die and become a ghost / and haunt me till my pulse also slows.”  Sentiment and sincerity?  Check.  Weird, bodily lyrics that verge on the grotesque?  Check.  Obsession with long-dead genocidal victim?  Not so much.  And while Anne Frank’s ghost haunts much of NMH’s last album, what haunts the RAA’s second album is you.

The aforementioned “Two Lovers” is a rocking ballad, not too slow, not too fast, not too happy, not too sad; its gradual momentum is a pitch-perfect start for the album to come, and leads into the tight, little number, “The Breakup.”  The RAA are a super-cohesive, three piece—almost minimalist—band, evidence of which can be found on their myriad live performances on youtube: acoustic guitar, a basic drum kit, and keyboards.  They maintain a rollicking pace through the first four songs with sustained guitar strums and tons of drum-rolls that have you rapping the steering wheel in accompaniment.  “North Star” slows things a bit (but you still have a good time air drumming this one).  The song feels like a breather for both the listener and the band, because track 6, “Stamp,” starts with a bunch of rapid-fire drum-rolls straight out of a college drumline, and the whole three minutes are filled with scream-singing and ghostly, ethereal “Ooohs” that fade in and out.  It is similar in aesthetic to “Barnes’ Yard,” another five-star song found two tracks later.  The album closes with the slight, “Good Night,” an a cappella duet paired with a subtle bass drum heartbeat, and ends as a warm and tender fairy tale ballad.

This album is tighter than their first (which, to me, is saying a lot, as I picked that first album as my favorite of 2009: http://contemporarysnobbery.tumblr.com/post/2860178259/bsba-bob), and they’ve streamlined filler; the album is a modest ten tracks and takes about 33 minutes to get through it all.  The guitar-playing is aggressive and raucous, the vocals are sincere, pained at times, and accommodate loud sing-alongs.  The Strokes never had a chance.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Sick/Sea - Oh Ship EP Review

By Robert Armando López

“Nature and people are inspirations.”  So says Audrey Scott, lead singer and guitarist for the Rio Grande Valley indie pop band Sick/Sea.  “Camping trips always get my creative flow back when it’s been waning.”  This fascination is evident almost immediately on the opening track of their new EP, Oh, Ship.  The song, “Campers Combo,” starts off with a vaguely Latin beat fused with surf-y guitars that set a relaxed mood.  Audrey’s girlpop vocals come in shortly thereafter and the casual, back-to-nature story is off, describing a camping trip somewhere near highway 281.  “We decide to roast some hotdogs/and in wonder watch the slow, setting sun,” she sings and the sitting-in-a-hammock-between-two-palms mood is further enhanced by the casual strum of a ukelele.

Initially working solo, Audrey’s stage name was also nautically related.  “I just used...the  pirate version of my name.”  (Arrgh!drey, if you’re wondering).  By the time she was asked to perform, her brother Cameron joined the act, providing drum parts for the songs she’d already penned.  They played as a duo for about a year.  “The more we became a unit, the less I wanted it to be about me.”  This, in addition to the difficulty others had spelling Arrgh!drey, precipitated a name change.  The McAllen natives decided on Sick for the Sea, because of a “longing for adventure.”  They dropped the articles and dropped an EP, Wishful Sinking, as Sick/Sea.  Miguel Morales joined the band soon thereafter and rounded out the trio.  A fourth member, Justin Marin, moved to Dallas in early 2010.

Back to the EP.  The third track, “Convenient,” starts off with a sexy, Twin-Peaks slowbeat that brings in that surf-y guitar again.  “Don’t call me,” Audrey sings, “when she stops calling you,” and her voice is so thrillingly teasing, you are instantly filled with regret, though you’ve clearly done nothing wrong because you’ve never actually met her.  “I won’t waste my heart on you,” she intones before a long, long pause that ends abruptly with a jump-up, horn section surprise complete with sing-along whoa-uh-uh-ohs.  “There’re other girls who will vie for your attention/but I couldn’t care if you die,” she says dryly, and ends the song way too soon.  Why’d you break up with her?  Dummy.

“Derby” is straight up rock filled throughout with inspired handclaps.  The song, ostensibly about musicians changing for the worse, is well-crafted and is filled with harmonies and multi-layered vocals.  Near the end, Audrey breathes ethereally, “Your voice makes me close my eyes and tilt my head and spill every breath from my chest.”  Ditto.  The handclaps that follow are an inspired touch as they simultaneously bring the song up and back down as Audrey demands: “But why do they let themselves become what they always would say they couldn’t convey?/And why do I still continue to fill my playlist with them?  I never condemn him.”  This last lyric totally parallels my relationship with Bono.

Oh, Ship is a five song EP and a great listen if not too short, “Convenient” in particular I wish was longer.  Sick/Sea will be  touring starting this June.  This marks their first ever tour.  It “will take us up the East Coast, to New York, around to Michigan and straight back down.”  The hope is that their fourth member, Justin, will join them for the tour.

Photo credit to David Ruiz.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Waiting, Marxist Thought, and Paperbacks

By Dan Vaughn

I have a lot of books. Too many, honestly. They are everywhere in the house: closets, storage rooms, bookshelves, under beds, on tables. Rarely is a surface not adorned with at least a small pile of books. My collection began when I was young, almost as quickly as I began reading. I couldn’t stand the idea of giving or throwing a book away, seemed like giving up on a friendship or a family member. In fact, I was the opposite. If a yard sale popped up on my street, I would wander down and bring back someone else’s trash to add to my pile. I can’t even estimate how many Tom Clancy books were rescued from dime and quarter bins in front of little houses down our street. Unlike a parent, I feel no qualms about playing favorites with the members of my book family. Some titles simply hold more memories than others. I love fingering the titles, staring absentmindedly off into space, thinking about the stories within and without the covers.

Some people are very picky about hardcovers, citing their hardiness and durability. My experience is not in agreement with their opinion. I have found that hardcovers often break their spines when tossed into backpacks. They separate in a way that I have rarely seen a paperback do, splitting from their cover like a snake parting with its skin. And of course, there is a the issue of dust jackets. Its easy to want to leave them on, but almost instantly they are ripped, dented or damaged. Take them off and they are easily lost and forgotten, leaving you with a bland cover. So I’m a paperback guy.

One of my favorite paperbacks came from Lewisville, a suburb of Dallas. I was there, just recently kicked out of seminary, sleeping on a friend’s couch. I had bounced from job to job, eventually settling into a waiting job at IHOP. It the first waiting job of many I would hold over my lifetime, and I found happiness in the lulls and rushes of foodservice. Waiting is unlike any other job I have worked in my lifetime. There is such a binding relationship between the wait staff, the truth only told behind the swinging doors of the kitchen, the fake smiles and tired polite lines, the barrage of plates and tops, the rude customers, the stiffs and the big tips. There are battle lines drawn up between the wait staff and the back of house, the cooks cuss and scream, blaming every mistake on you, all the while you constantly blame the cooks to your tables. The kitchen is a wonderful place. I have said many times that if pay was equal for all jobs, I would still be waiting.

During this stint at IHOP I befriended a fellow waiter, Jen Corby. She was smart, just out of high school and full of angst. She smoked constantly, cursed like a sailor, and influenced me incredibly. We discussed everything, including philosophy while rolling silverware in the back room. I remember us smoking there, sitting in the kitchen (though my memory must be incorrect), talking about how unfair the world was. She was soon to leave for college and I wasn’t sure what would happen to my fortunes. I imagined something greater, but in some ways I couldn’t have been happier.

It was during one of these sessions that she handed me her beat up copy of Marx’s Communist Manifesto. She wanted me to read it and, of course, become a communist. I don’t know if she meant for me to keep it, but I did. It now is one of my favorite books. It is bent, creased, nicked and notated. Every page has something written on it, and that reminds me of the character that my friend was. Doesn’t matter who she was arguing with it, even if it was Karl Marx (long dead and gone), she would get her word in, even if it meant scrolling it in the margins.

Today, that book sits on a shelf, its battered edges flying like flags for the country of beat up books. The edge has stripped down the side of the spine so only part of the title shows and a bit of the glue is also obvious. Though I’ve read it twice now, I’m still not a communist. However, when I spot that book, I think back to those days, waiting, and my good friend, Jen.

This column ran in the McAllen Monitor 4/19/11 in a somewhat revised form.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

Victory: The Greatest Sports Movie of All-Time

By Dan Vaughn

Several days ago, while listening to the Dan Patrick Radio Show, I heard one of the cast made a claim about “the best sports movie of all-time.” I paused for a moment, considered their options, and remembered a film they had obviously overlooked. In 1981 Victory was released (Escape to Victory in Europe), the football (soccer) film set within a Nazi Prisoner of War camp during World War II. The plot of the film centers on an exhibition match between a team of Allied prisoners and a German team made of professional players in the Nazi army. A secondary plot to escape during halftime, aided by the resistance, is also key. At halftime, down by several goals, the team is debating escape or continuation of the match. Eventually the group decides to play the rest of the match, knowing it almost certainly means their deaths, as a symbol of resistance against the Nazi regime. The match ends in a tie (a late goal by the Allied side is disallowed by a biased official), the crowd revolts at the injustice and the players escape anyway. 

  It sounds trite, if that paragraph was all you had to go on. The sum of the parts, however, equals the finest sports movie of all-time. Please follow my logic through the next five points. 

    1. Nazis - It’s tough to make a sports movie that’s realistic without the antagonist being a subtle rooting option for the audience. Most of the characters, if considered fairly, had to work just as hard as the protagonist to be competitive within their chosen sport. Consider Rocky, an Academy Award winner, as a great example of this. Apollo Creed may be a bit of an ass and certainly he is rich and powerful, but there’s no reason to really hate him other than his position as antagonist to Rocky Balboa. No doubt Apollo had worked his ass off to get where he was. Probably a poor black kid, growing up in Los Angeles with little opportunity in the 60’s and 70’s. He made his way through boxing, eventually earning the heavyweight championship title. Why not root for him? He’s nothing but a black Rocky Balboa!  So usually the writers resort to character assassination-style techniques to make you hate the opponent(s). Within the Rocky franchise think Clubber Lang (kills Mic/threatens Adrian with a night with a “real man/grunts in a menacing way while working out) or Ivan Drago (Soviet during the Cold War/uses steroids/kills Apollo).

  So the writers of Victory solve this problem of making the viewers despise your opponent with the best and most obvious choice.  Who does everyone hate, regardless of nationality, race or gender? Who is the measure of evil within our world? Who can no one, seriously, root for? Nazis. They made the bad guys Nazis.

  2. History - I will copy and paste a bit of Wikipedia here, link at the bottom of the article: 

  The Death Match was the Soviet propaganda name for a non-official association football match in 1942 between the local workers of a bakery factory — former professional footballers from Dynamo Kyiv and Lokomotyv Kyiv — and soldiers of the Nazi German Wehrmacht. The Kievan footballers defeated the Germans, and according to Soviet sources, many of the players were later arrested and sent to a labor camp.

  Of course, the movie industry could have told the story of Dynamo and Lokomotyv, but how could they draw in a crowd of American movie-goers with a movie about Russians getting killed? This is 1981, people might have cheered the Nazis on! So instead the setting is a Prisoner of War camp for Allied soldiers and the only “football player” in the camp is West Ham player John Colby (played by Michael Caine).

  It’s true that other sports movies involve actual history within them, but the story of Victory is so improbable and unlikely, yet, aside from some artistic interpretation, its based on actual events.

  3. Pelé - Too often with sports movies, they cram actors into roles they could never possibly play. We get pictures featuring actors too short, too old, or too fat for their their chosen roles and often without explanation. Even within Victory, Stallone as the goalkeeper is a stretch. The actor is 5’9 and, even at that time of his career, is far too slow moving to effectively mind the net.

  So Victory solves this problem by using the most popular player of the last two decades, Pelé, in the film. The star of three World Cup-winning Brasil teams had just wrapped up his playing career with The New York Cosmos and was still in playing shape. His football ability shows in the film, adding a spark of reality to the gameplay. And who can forget that amazing bicycle kick? Best on film, ever. His acting is not nearly as bad as one might expect, considering the language barrier and his inexperience. 

  4. Underdog Story - Considering the record of the Nazi abuse of its prisoners, aside from the brutality of the Holocaust, the consequences of winning the match would bring little personal reward to the prisoners. Following the historical story the movie was based upon, the expectation should have been death. Of course, this is Hollywood, the people revolt and the players escape.

  Who doesn’t love an underdog story? The classic David-Goliath paradox calls for the viewer to root for the obviously outmatched opponent. In Victory, all the power lies with the German team. The Allied team has a dusty practice pitch and little more. It is only through pluck and determination that they will have a chance. Oh, and Pelé, of course. 

  5. Football - While the pace of the game is slowed throughout the movie, the technical aspects of football are showed in a realistic way. The passing, the tackling, the rules of the match, the words and phrases used by both the players and the announcers are all spot on to the sport. This was done with deliberate intent. Stallone was coached throughout the making of the movie by the English goalkeeper, Gordon Banks. This same goalkeeper helped England win its last World Cup in 1966.  Professional players from several English clubs, including Ipswich Town, were used as doubles throughout the gameplay to supply real talent. Ipswich, at this time, was runner-up in the English League (the precursor to the modern Premier League).

  Several examples from the film that stand out include the cross that gains the prisoners’ team one of their goals. It’s real football on display. The ball comes in from the corner of the pitch, falls behind the German keeper and is one-timed into the goal by Michael Caine’s character, John Colby. And of course, there is the Pelé bicycle kick goal. No player may be more connected to that particular technique than Pelé. His striking of the ball is perfect, and it should be!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Death_Match

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

A Snob's Guide to MLS: Choosing Your Team (cont.)

By Dan Vaughn

The continuation of our MLS preview....

Western Conference

Chivas USA

Chivas is, of course, connected with its Mexican sister-club, Guadalajara. Their crests, kits, and nicknames are identical. Both clubs are owned by Jorge Vergara, the Mexican film producer and business owner. He is famous for producing the film everyone loves: Y tu mamá también (which I hate, personally). He also owns the Costa Rican club Saprissa, now in the semifinals of the CONCACAF Champions League. The man has a touch with soccer clubs that, so far, Chivas USA hasn’t lived up to. Last year, Chivas lost their best player, Sacha Kljestan, to Belgian Pro League Champion Anderlecht. To make the situation even more complicated, the entire leadership of the club, including CEO, VP, and head coach, either stepped down or were released. 

Best Player: Jimmy Conrad

  Colorado Rapids

Before you tell me how good he is (and his stats indicate he really is good), my first impression of Conor Casey is that he looks fat and slow. Just saying. On the other hand, his teammate, Omar Cummings, is a burner. Ok, soapbox put away, Colorado won the MLS cup last year, thanks to an own goal by FC Dallas in the second overtime period (while I did not watch the Final last year, after reading this fact, I really regret missing it). Sadly, Colorado switched to a new kit this year, shedding the awesome sky blue away kit that I loved so much. Last year’s MLS Cup win was a bit of a surprise after years of apathetic mid-table finishes. If you are looking for a team to support on the rise, this is the one.

Best Player: Conor Casey

  FC Dallas

FC Dallas plays their home games in Pizza Hut Park, which amuses me quite a bit due to the way the name blends two place designators (Hut, Park). Previously known as the Dallas Burn (horrible name), the club switched to its current name in 2006 which follows in the pattern of many European soccer clubs (FC stands for Football Club). 2010 was a great year for FC Dallas, winning the Western Conference and only narrowly losing the final to the Colorado Rapids. The Polyphonic Spree’s “Hoops, Yes!” is the clubs anthem. I’ve listened to it, its horrible. Just saying.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AykY5eJFkO8

 Best Player: David Ferreira (2010 MLS MVP)

  Los Angeles Galaxy

Of all the clubs in the MLS, the Galaxy need the least description. This is due to the addition a couple years back of Mr. David Beckham. Along with his Spice Girl wife, Posh, Beckham made MLS important for about 30 seconds. But for the most part now, the honeymoon is over. Beckham is resented due to his apparent lack of focus on the team and MLS, making multiple attempts to permanently transfer to European clubs. Sadly eclipsed by the English star is one of the best players the United States has ever produced, Landon Donovan. The Galaxy are one of only two MLS clubs to win CONCACAF (2000).

Best Player: Landon Donovan

  Portland Timbers

Expansion teams always suck. And when I say expansion teams, I actually mean expansion teams versus teams that relocate and rename. Portland is brand new, this being their first year in the MLS (they played in the USL Division 1 last year). The major plus of choosing this team as your favorite is that you certainly aren’t being a bandwagoner. I watched their opening match vs. Colorado. They looked overmatched in their loss and I’m not too hopeful for their season. I guess they have nice colors? *shrug* 

Best Player: Brian Umony

 Real Salt Lake

The history of using “Real” in a team name comes primarily from the Spanish soccer leagues. In the 1920s, the Spanish king Alfonso XIII designated certain teams with the “Real” tag, meaning “royal” (in Spanish). Sort of like a big stamp of government approval for your soccer club. While several clubs in Spain retain the title, you probably have only heard of one of them, Real Madrid. When Salt Lake chose their club name there was some complaints against it, due to the historical inaccuracy it presents. However, it has gained acceptance and RSL has a standing 10-year partnership with Real Madrid to train players and develop a cooperative youth academy. Currently RSL is in the semifinals of the CONCACAF Champions League Tournament, the only remaining MLS club in the contest. MLS champions two years ago, quarterfinalist last year, this team is good and their future is bright.

Best Player: Álvaro Saborío

  San Jose Earthquakes

In 2006, the San Jose Earthquakes ceased to exist. The ownership group, fed up with a lack of a soccer-only stadium in San Jose, moved the team to Houston, eventually becoming the Dynamo. Then, a year later, MLS announced an expansion team, named the Earthquakes would be playing in San Jose. I would compare it to the NFL and the Browns/Ravens situation. In 2010, the Earthquakes made the playoffs and upset the #1 seed Red Bulls, prior to their own elimination. Whether or not a 6th place finish last year will translate into a better team this year remains to be seen.

Best Player: Chris Wondolowski

  Seattle Sounders FC

While the Sounders have only been in the league for 2 years, they have the largest fan base within their hometown. Every game has been sold out. Compared to the average attendance of MLS games (16,000), the Sounders averaged over 36,000 in 2010. With so much support in Seattle, the team will no doubt break through in the playoffs very soon. Last year they finished their season in the semifinals, losing to the Galaxy. Their sponsor is Microsoft (which is sort of like your dad’s company sponsoring your little league team) and their chest space is occupied by the Xbox logo. A word on my best player choice. While Keller is clearly at the end of his career, his consistent play has been world class for the last 20 years. 

Best Player: Kasey Keller

                             finally a club I can support

Vancouver Whitecaps FC

Another expansion team this year, the Whitecaps’ only advantage is their geographical setting (really, Vancouver is a pretty city). This team played in the USSF Division 2 last year under the same name and ownership. Support for the club is strong, much the same as the Toronto club. I think this is because, aside from the European influence towards the sport, there is little competition from other sports: no football (I mean, NFL teams), a bad basketball team, weakened hockey (after the lockout), and only one baseball team. Canada is a great place for major soccer inroads to be made. Hopefully one of the Canadian teams will have some success and cement the progress made. This year, however, it will not be Vancouver.

Best Player: Jay DeMerit

And there is it, the entire MLS laid out for you to decide which club to root for. Who will you support this year?

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

A Snob's Guide to MLS: Choosing Your Team

By Dan Vaughn

I love English Premier League football. I consider it the best soccer league in the world, each team filled with the best talent in the world. But, as an American, I feel some obligation to support the North American professional league, MLS. But choosing to delve into an unknown league, then picking a team (particularly if one lives far from a team’s location) and trying to follow their players, can be a daunting task. Why do I root for Manchester United in the EPL? Because they happened to be playing in the first soccer match I watched. Had I known more background on the club, there is a solid chance I would be a Villa or Blackburn supporter. Instead, now three years removed from my first exposure, I am a Red Devil fan through and through. So with my EPL experience in mind, I decided to delve into the teams that make up the MLS, sort out the Conferences, pinpoint the bright spots and write it up in an understandable way for you, the new MLS fan.

Consider the following article a primer for choosing your MLS club to root for: Basic background information on the club, a tidbit or two of trivia, maybe a hint of history, and the best player on the team. In no way should this article be considered the ultimate source of information concerning MLS.

MLS Eastern Conference

Chicago Fire

Obviously named after the Great Fire of 1871, the team was formally established on the infamous anniversary date in 1997. The Fire’s original coach was Bob Bradley, the current coach for the U.S. National Team. The Fire have always been a competitive team, only missing the playoffs twice in their 13 year history (2004, 2010). When theteam was in development, Nike, the club’s equipment company, wanted the team to be called the Rhythm (can’t imagine a more shitty name...Wait, the Utah Jazz). But, without Nike’s approval or knowledge, the team worked with other designers to create the current logo and concept. Taking on the establishment, what’s not to love about that?

Best player: Marco Pappa

Columbus Crew

While I dislike their club name due to how entirely nondescript it is (really? Why not the Cohort? or Clan? or Company?), the people of Columbus are the ones to blame. The name of the team was selected as a result of a fan poll. An interesting fact: Columbus’ biggest rival is Toronto FC. Annually, they compete for the Trillium Cup, named after the official flower of Ontario and the Ohio state wild flower. I can’t think of anything more odd than a yearly soccer competition named after a flower. After several years of non-competitive seasons, the Crew have made the playoffs the last three years, winning the division once and claiming the Cup in 2008.

Best Player: Robbie Rogers

pictured: a soccer rivalry

D.C. United

Probably the most successful club in MLS history, having won 4 MLS Cups and a CONCACAF Champions Cup (that fact shocked the hell out of me). However, the last couple of years have been disappointing ones for this franchise. Some hope is invested in 2010‘s Rookie of the Year, midfielder Andy Najar, a product of United’s youth development program. The club are currently sponsored by Volkswagen, who paid 14 million dollars for 5 years of chest rights. Because of this sponsorship, the first 50 Volkswagens at each home game get free parking. My favorite fact in writing this entire article.

Best Player: Charlie Davies (on loan with the club currently)

Houston Dynamo

Dynamo were originally the San Jose Earthquakes, relocating to Houston in 2005. Apparently, the change of hometowns was an instant success, as the team won the MLS Cup in 2006 and 2007. Since then, the Dynamo have shown permanent success, consistently qualifying for the playoffs, Open Cup and CONCACAF tournaments. When the team was originally established, it was named Houston 1836, a reference to the founding of the city. However, the year also marks Texas’ Independence from Mexico, which was not as well received by the city’s large Hispanic population. Of course, the name Dynamo is a reference to the power companies based in Houston, but it is also tied to several traditional soccer clubs in the Russian leagues. The Dynamo have two supporting groups: El Batallón and Texian Army.

Best Player: Geoff Cameron (supplied by Sam Cooke, the biggest fan of Houston I know)

pictured: Big-time fútbol fan

New England Revolution

Ok. I have written about every team in MLS and none of them have a story like the Revolution. In 2008, while flying across the country, a man on their flight got up, began undressing and headed to the emergency exit to apparently go for a naked swan dive. The team subdued him while the flight was diverted. Patriots all of them (they are owned by NFL Patriots’ owner, Robert Craft)! While they may be great at stopping lunatics on planes, the Revolution have yet to win a Cup, though they are one of the original ten teams. They, much like the Buffalo Bills, have reached 4 Finals, only to fall short. Their last appearance was in 2007 and since then, the team has sunk lower each year. In 2010, the club finished 6th in the conference, their lowest finish since 1998.

Best Player: Shalarie Joseph

New York Red Bulls

One of the first ten MLS teams, The Red Bulls were originally the MetroStars. In 2006, they were purchased the drink maker, Red Bull, leading to the name and badge change. The Red Bulls have showcased world soccer stars both on the rise and on the decline including, most recently, Thierry Henry. Henry is the current captain and almost certainly the best player on the squad. However, Juan Angudelo, an up-and-coming striker from the U-20 U.S. team, is the one to watch for fans of the USMNT. The Red Bulls play their home matches in a completely privately funded stadium, built in 2007, Red Bull Arena. Things are looking up for the club, having won the division last year, after many years of middle-of-the-pack finishes.

Best Player: Thierry Henry

not pictured: the entire nation of Ireland crying

Philadelphia Union

One of the youngest of the MLS teams, the Union have a horrible name. Horrible. It’s sad, because everything else about the team is awesome. A group of soccer fans, The Sons of Ben (a reference to Ben Franklin), began petitioning MLS for a franchise in 2007. The next year, MLS awarded the city a franchise. The team is entirely themed around the role of Philadelphia in the American Revolution. The badge features a snake coiled around a soccer ball, a reference to Ben Franklin’s famous political cartoon.The colors chosen for their kit are the colors of the Continental Army. The name “Union” was chosen to represent the “union” of 13 states into a nation. Are you a red-blooded American? What’s not to love about this club? This is my new favorite team!

Best Player: Sébastien Le Toux (funny, their best player is French)

Sporting Kansas City

Few teams have had a name go from liability to respectability as quick as the soccer club from KC. Founded in 1995, the team was originally known as...wait for it... the...Wiz. Their team name was a word my brothers and I used to describe piss until we were teenagers. From the Wiz, they became the Wizards, and, finally (and respectably), in 2010, they became Sporting KC. Naming a club Sporting is a European tradition that signifies that the soccer club is part of a wider collection of clubs form other sports. Kansas City plans on adding rugby and lacrosse in the future. Sporting KC has some tradition of success in the past, including a Cup win in 2000; however, the last couple of years have ended in bottom-of-the-standings records.

Best Player: Omar Bravo

Toronto FC

Toronto may be a wreck of a franchise, but the club has one of the best followings of all the MLS clubs. The club has completely sold its 16,000 season tickets, with over 10,000 people on the waiting list. Dwayne De Rosario, who helped lead the Houston Dynamo to their first two Cups, now plays for TFC. Sadly, at the rate Toronto is losing games, he may never see another Cup. De Rosario is probably the best current Canadian footballer and has attracted some attention from European clubs, including Celtic. I have mocked several of the “anthems” for other clubs, but Toronto’s, written by the Barenaked Ladies, is actually really great. I could see myself screaming this at a match without reservations.

Best Player: Dwayne De Rosario

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysYZfmFYAQg&feature=related

In Two Days: The Western Conference

Thanks for Randall Monty and Sam Cooke with some help on a couple clubs.

Thanks to an Anonymous reader for pointing out an error in this piece. It has been corrected.

[contemporarysnobbery-blog]

By Randall Monty

The early buzz surrounding Collapse into Now, the fifteenth studio album by Athens, Georgia-originated R.E.M., is that it signifies a return to proper form for a band that has alternately been regarded as the forefathers or alternative rock, the biggest band in the world, and pretentious hangers-on. Even before hearing a single new track, these returnist framings sat sour with me. Why does a band of R.E.M.'s stature need to return to anything? I almost want them to take the Bob Dylan route and just start recording old-timey music. Wouldn't a R.E.M. album of Celtic traditionals be awesome?

  I've only listened to Collapse into Now all the way through a handful of times at this point, and my initial returns have been less impressed than those put forth by some other reviewers. I totally recognize and appreciate the signature moves once again being made by Michael Stipe, Mike Mills and Peter Buck, but I just can't look past what I perceive to be among the cheesier lyrics in the band's catalog. R.E.M. are at their best when the words are opaque, but they can do specific with heart and class, too. Spitting the difference, however, is too often a zero-sum game.

  For reasons previously suggested, Collapse into Now was not included in the following ranking of R.E.M.'s albums, although I anticipate that when all's said and done, it will probably be slotted somewhere in the 10 to 14 range. For the here and now, "That Someone is You" is the early leader in the clubhouse as my favorite album track.

15. Around the Sun - Mike Mills's trademarked off-beat harmonizing is heavenly on "Leaving New York," but there's little inspiration to be found on the whole. The band's lowest-charting effort on a major label.

  14. Accelerate - Oddly, when this album was billed as R.E.M.'s "return to rock," nobody stopped and asked when exactly R.E.M. rocked in the first place. In spite of that minor inconsistency, Accelerate is an occasionally fun, if inoffensive and unremarkable, album.

  13. Reveal - There are a few gems here, like "Imitation of Life," "Summer Turns to High," and "All the Way to Reno," but Reveal never really clicked  as anything other than an highly-contextualized and personal album.

  12. Monster - Known mostly for its fuzzy guitars and permanent bargain bin residency (Maybe that first quality is what Accelerate proponents were referring to.), Monster launched with as much hype as any R.E.M. album to date, topping the charts in the U.S., and inspiring some stupid "love = guitars" laudatory equation from the bowels of Rolling Stone magazine. That said, this album might be worth revisiting.

  11. Dead Letter Office - In the canon of R.E.M., Dead Letter Office makes the cut as an album even though it was not an official studio production, but rather a collection of b-sides and cover songs. The CD of DLO included the Chronic Town EP in its release, marking the first time that many R.E.M. fans heard what what the band first sounded like.

  10. Green - Theoretically, R.E.M. were once the biggest band in the world, but I don't remember them being altogether popular. Maybe they were actually the biggest active American band in the world, but that seems like a whole lot of provisos. In any case, that title was based/founded largely on Green, the band's major label debut. And as a cultural artifact, Green finds a perfect balance in that regard: Probably the poppiest album R.E.M. ever recorded, it is also their most overtly political, with songs obliquely referencing agent orange, global warming, and deforestation,  among other causes that would later become R.E.M. staples both on and off the stage.

  9. Up - While alienating casual fans, the band's first post-Bill Berry album was hugely influential for actual musicians. It provided the template and inspiration for Radiohead's Kid A, and its Brian Wilson -esque harmonizing predicted a decade's worth of Panda Bears, Ruby Suns and Flaming Lips.

  8. Fables of the Reconstruction - Featuring one of the great train songs in southern rural American music ("Driver 8"), Fables… was the evidence of a band in transit, a reaction to the preceding half-decade's worth of touring. Moving away from their critically praised sound, R.E.M. transitioned into some directions that would find tracking on later albums (the southern Gothic mood is replicated on Automatic for the People), as well as others that would be abandoned immediately. Misinterpreting the albums title, an easy mistake to make given the typography on the liner notes, caused a reading of "Reconstruction of the Fables," which, looking back, may have been a more fitting title.

  7. New Adventures in Hi-Fi - This was easily the most anticipated single album of my lifetime, and in retrospect, it's a wonder I had any right expecting it. A marked departure from pretty much everything else R.E.M. had done or would eventually do, Hi-Fi holds up as almost extra-canonical, with instrumental flourishes ("Leave") and literal song writing features ("Be Mine") found nowhere else in their catalog.

  6. Lifes Rich Pageant - This album is for deep feelings of R.E.M. For those of you that can't stand the band, "Swan Swan H" is probably the reason why. If you don't like them but don't hate them, there's "Superman." For fans of instrumental filler, "Flowers of Guatemala" is one of the best. Long-time aficionados of the band shout along to "Cuyahoga" when played live. And if you love the band because you're in it, "Fall on Me" is the song for you.

  5. Out of Time - From here on out, the albums on this list are must-haves for any serious would-be music snob. Thanks in no small part to the art house music video for "Losing My Religion," Out of Time was the perfect soundtrack for the transition from the Me Decade to whatever the hell form of cultural disillusionment came to signify the 1990s. "Shiny Happy People" and "Radio Song" don’t sound like R.E.M. songs at this point, but as brazen declarations of Keith Hernadezness. The last third of the album is just the band out-beautifulling all of their contemporaries.

  4. Document - "It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" is the most-R.E.M. thing the band has ever done, overblown with obtuse lyrics and pop sensibilities. "The One I Love" is like a perpetual irony machine, forever smirking its way over wedding parties and teenaged radio dedications. "Strange" is the best cover version the band ever recorded, not just for its aesthetic precision, but because one of the bigger bands on the planet had just done a song by Wire (outdone at the time in popularity discrepancy only by the Boss's cover of "Dream Baby Dream"). At this very moment, I'm wondering why I called the Joshua Tree my favorite album from 1987.

  3. Reckoning - This is the greatest southern rock (not "Southern Rock") album of all time, presenting a region defined by Harper (as opposed to "General") Lee. Spreading its wings beyond its own regional boundaries, "So. Central Rain (I'm Sorry)" created the archetype that Jeff Buckley, Stuart Murdoch, and Thom Yorke would later help turn into the acceptable standard of masculine vulnerability.

  2. Murmur - The masterpiece that got the whole show rolling, Murmur is where collegiate America was first introduced to Michael Stipe's cavernous voice and Dadaist lyricism, Peter Buck's jangly© guitars, Mike Mills's melodic two-headed snake of voice and bass, and Bill Berry's flawless drumming. "Radio Free Europe," R.E.M.'s first hit single, is the clear leader here, but "Perfect Circle" is the most sweetly emotive thing the band has put to tape.

  1. Automatic for the People - The greatest R.E.M. album is that monolithic, capital-I "important" album that every artist needs to make but only a handful are able to actualize. Through some weird alchemy, the entire artifact that is Automatic for the People - songs, videos, liner notes, photos, the highlighter-yellow disc - combined to make perfect, cohesive sense. There's also a song with my name in it, which you absolutely know was my personal teenage theme.