As the season of giving wanes, awards season open, giving celebutantes and nerds alike a reason to go to the movies. I've seen several of the upcoming best movies, and am here to tell you to watch them. Milk, the biopic of the year that acts least like a biopic, tells the story of Harvey Milk, the first gay man gain an elected office in the US, set during the 1970's. I laughed, I cried, I wanted to go forth and fight for gay rights. And really, what more could you ask for from a movie? It was genuine, beautiful, and heart wrenchingly true. It reminded you to love the person, not the gender, and that love, friendliness and earnestness get your far. In today's jaded world, that's a beautiful reminder.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Golden Globes season
As the season of giving wanes, awards season open, giving celebutantes and nerds alike a reason to go to the movies. I've seen several of the upcoming best movies, and am here to tell you to watch them. Milk, the biopic of the year that acts least like a biopic, tells the story of Harvey Milk, the first gay man gain an elected office in the US, set during the 1970's. I laughed, I cried, I wanted to go forth and fight for gay rights. And really, what more could you ask for from a movie? It was genuine, beautiful, and heart wrenchingly true. It reminded you to love the person, not the gender, and that love, friendliness and earnestness get your far. In today's jaded world, that's a beautiful reminder.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Never Gonna Give You Up?
And lo! Here is the next contributor, my fabulous and witty roommate, Miss Katie Burkes! Upon her return to the homestead this afternoon, pictures of her adventures from Thanksgiving were proudly touted....including those from the Thanksgiving Parade. Now, any of you kids with any kind of tradition are familiar with the parade, so here is Katie's experience with it. Enjoy, and let her take you back to "the day" (whenever "back in the day" actually was...)!
I bring up Rick and his hit ‘80s classic because Mr. Astley recently made an appearance in the 2008 Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, which I attended, as I do every year. This particular year I was lucky enough to watch the festivities from the new VIP section – which were essentially large red bleachers – located in Duffy Square on Broadway. The parade commenced as usual with a slew of B-List celebrities and enormous inflatable cartoon characters (the highlights of this year: a Smurf and Buzz Lightyear). I stood in my VIP bleachers as obnoxious parents encouraged their children to injure me as needed to get a better spot, wishing , hoping – nay, praying – for a reason to be out here on this freezing cold Thanksgiving morning. The parade passed: Ronald McDonald…Pikachu… David Archuleta… yawn. Then I saw something on the horizon… a red and gold sign announcing the next celebrity of the parade. I craned my neck to read said sign as it was proudly paraded down Broadway. I was finally able to make out the name Rick, and a few seconds later, Astley. RICK. ASTLEY. Yes indeed, Rick was approaching. At this moment I turned to my father and excitedly announced Rick’s arrival, to which he seemed less than excited about. However, I assume this was because either a) he would have felt emasculated if he let out his true emotions and began screaming like an eleven year old girl at a Jo Bros concert, or b) he was so stunned and shocked to be within mere feet of Rick Astley that he was rendered speechless.
Within minutes, Rick’s float rolled in front of us. I immediately whipped out my camera, trying to capture every moment. I watched as he waved to fans (mostly moms) from his position aboard the Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends float. A tear of joy slid down my cheek (well ok, not really) as I watched him innocently play with the Imaginary Friends puppets on this float of promise. Indeed, Rick rolled (haha) like a champion, no, like a god in a peacoat.
But alas, even though this precious moment seemed like it lasted for hours, Rick’s float eventually moved on, ever so slowly, until finally it disappeared from my sight. One might think I would be upset with Mr. Astley for leaving me. After all, he had broken several of his promises: He did hurt me by leaving, he did let me down and he deserted me in the VIP section of Duffy Square with only my memories (and photographs) to sustain me. I was confused for a moment. Was “Never Gonna Give You Up” merely words to Rick?? Surely, he would not tell me all those things only to do the exact things he promised he wouldn’t. This was not the Rick I know and love. I felt so alone. And then, I realized something. This Thanksgiving morning, I was not in good spirits. I had to wake up at six thirty am only to stand in the freezing cold while the little girls around me screamed in my ears at Miley Cyrus. All in all, this was not shaping up to be the Thanksgiving I had hoped for. But Rick’s mere presence brightened my entire day. He knew that I wasn’t having a great morning, and he couldn’t bear to see me waste away my Thanksgiving feeling tired, cold and cranky. And so, by standing on that Foster’s float early on the morning of November 27th, 2008, Rick gave me the greatest gift of all. He reminded me of all good things in this world – a cheesy yet ridiculously catchy 80s tune, the beauty of New York in the winter time, the joy of a warm yet fashionable peacoat, the beauty of lip synching – and gave me something to be thankful for on this the day of Thanks. In doing so, Rick fulfilled every promise… to me and to every other person watching that parade who actually knew who he was.
And so, kids, when you go to sleep this upcoming Christmas Eve, be sure to listen closely. You may just hear the opening chords of “Never Gonna Give You Up” as Rick Astley travels the globe bringing joy and hope to all.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
So you like it juicy?
Dearest readers, I'm overjoyed to announce my newest contributor, James Napoli. A renaissance man if I've ever met one, James' talents and charm far exceed that of the average college students. I could go on, but I'll let his snappy, arousing prose speak for itself. Enjoy!
You’re probably thinking to yourself, what the hell is this guy talking about? So what if she’s got a little sweat beading up on her ass, that’s usually a turn on when I watch porn. Au contraire, mi amigo. Maybe a little anecdote will knock you to your senses. Picture this, you’re making out with some chick in the backseat of your 1998 Camry, and she’s hot. I mean smoking fucking hot. She’s got these smoldering eyes that immediately make you think of sex, and her tits are fine as hell. So, being the baller that you think you are, decide to nonchalantly slide your hand down her back and underneath the elastic band of her sweatpants. She doesn’t seem to mind, and she presses her taught hips even more tightly against yours, arching her back ever so slightly. Score, you think to yourself, this chick’s a fucking slut. Then, as you slide your hand deeper into unexplored territory, and her breathing starts to get heavy, something goes horribly, horribly wrong. Your hand is soaking wet. Soaking, fucking wet, with God knows what. In the midst of your panic attack, after you dry your hand off on something (most likely her shirt that found its way on the floor) you notice that stamped across her ass is the word Juicy. That my friend, is what I call a boner killer. So please, girls-please. Keep is sexy, keep it gangsta, keep it dry.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Quiet time music!

So tonight Mr. Storm brought us the music of the glorious Miss Rachel Wiegand, so check her out! As he put it, she's a hottie with a guitar, in case you missed us chatting her up on the show tonight! She's got a rad mellow vibe that offered us a great counterpoint to the postpunk stuff I've been spinning lately...we always love to indulge in something a little different!
Monday, November 17, 2008
We have that SPECIAL SAUCE!
Dear readers, as the Time for Feasting (gotta love food-centered holidays!) approaches, I must explain two things.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
So about Friday nights...
This particular Friday night was crazy redonkadonk! We threw a Disco Ravin' party, complete with tons of sequins and all the essential tunes (BeeGees to the face!). So add that to the list from the previous Friday-night entry....
Friday, November 14, 2008
Wild Kingdom metaphors for tunes?! Hell Yeah!

Hey readers, I'm proud to introduce Green Shock's newest contributor Nicholas (Nick "The Hip") Palumbo! He's the pseudo-hipster Veep of WMAR and knows infinitely more crazy and obscure bands than I do, so I'm bringing him to you! Here's his first post...enjoy!
Today, I saw a fox (and a gorgeous one at that). It was stalking a squirrel that had climbed up a telephone pole. I thought it was such a marvelous site that I forgot why I went to my car. I remembered 20 minutes later why I was outside, spending the whole time fixated on this extremely beautiful creature. I had not gone out of my way to find this fox, it just surprised me. I love it when music does the same to me. When a new artist or song hides around the corner and waits for you to get closer before it pounces and screams, “Surprise!” This week, I came across a folk band called “Gregory & The Hawk”. I found them on Myspace but came across them accidently (quite similarly to how I came across the fox). The vocals are velvety, the music extremely basic. “Boats and Birds” is a song that legitimately brought tears down my face. It is the kind of song that will play while Zach Braff spoons with Scarlett Johansson on a bed in an empty apartment in the next best film since “Garden State” (one can wish, right?) We need to be open and aware of our surroundings. If we aren’t, we might miss that new artist or new song that will change the world (or miss that fox). There you have it! Nick the Hip will be writing as often as he can, and helping me raise the baby love child that is Green Shock! Groovy baby --Nicholas Palumbo.. |