Benzito

Notes from the (Not So Far) East

2009-02-05T06:36:00.000-08:00

The city of Prague is in the middle of something.

Geographically, of course, Prague is in the center of Europe, I mean really right there in the middle of everything. (They found this out the hard way in 1916, and again in 1939.) And depending on whose making your map, the Czech Republic is pretty damn close to the center of the world.And there is also a mix of old and new in the city of Prague, maybe even more so than a typical European city. Prague wasn't bombed during the Second World War, so a tremendous amount of Hapsburg era architecture remains. Also, the city found itself locked off from the developing West during the larger part of the twentieth century.

A lot old still thrives here, in art, culture, architecture, but there is also a fervour of capitalist and hyper-modern sentiment that is at work in the city.It's a strange place.

Here are some important rules for the newbs:

1. Learn important phrases before you go out.

It's good to try to speak a new language, and really, the best way to understand a new culture. Also, locals will appreciate your effort and will treat you with a little more understanding. Phrases like "Thank you," "Hello," "Excuse me," "I'm sorry," and "I don't speak (this language)" are essentials.Save "Hey baby, what's your sign?" for when you have a stronger grasp of culture and proper grammatical functions.

2. Listen to Nancy Reagan, Just Say No!

If you are quick at adaptation, you'll find yourself confused for someone who speaks this new language at a much greater level of fluency than you actually posses. While playing along may seem fun for awhile, and it may be a real ego boost to fool someone into thinking you understand them, remember that it isn't actually you who has the upper hand in this situation.People who said yes when they didn't know what they were agreeing to was how the show "Locked-Up Abroad" got started.If you don't know what's happening, remember, Nancy's a wonderful woman.

3. The peanut butter really is awful.

Everybody always says "oh, I miss the peanut butter," but I always thought that it was hard to feel sorry for European travelers who miss Peter Pan or Jiffy while climbing the Eiffel Tower or skiing the Alps.Also, I used to work in a place that made peanut butter from just...peanuts and I found it hard to believe that you can possibly mess up peanut butter. I mean, I understand that Skippy has a lot more than raw peanuts in it, but raw peanut butter is great too.But here, it's terrible. They just can't seem to get it right. The secret hasn't been shipped over yet I guess. In fact, things have gotten so bad that some folks just gave up on the peanut game altogether.

Dimitri: This isn't working, our peanut butter is inferior...we just can't make the stuff.
Pavel: Hmm. You still got those Hazelnuts?
Dimitri: Of course.
Pavel: What about that chocolate you were eating for lunch?
Dimitri: Loads.
Pavel: Great, you know what? Screw this peanut butter thing. Mix those hazelnuts with some chocolate, call it good. Let's go home.

4. In Prague, don't smile on the street.

Actually, don't show any human emotion. It's a sign of weakness.

It is acceptable to go to 2nd base with your girlfriend anywhere at any time.

5. Frustration takes many forms.

Imagine you are on a street. You in a foreign city, and are feeling pretty good about yourself. You are dressed all European and shit, but still have a little of that American edge. You pretty much have arrived wherever it was that you were figuratively going.

Now picture a beautiful woman comes down the street and hands you a flyer for an upcoming dance show. You exchange a quick phrase and keep walking.

Now imagine she turns back around and talks to you. She flips her hair, talks, smiles, talks more, and bites her lip.You say, in her language:
"Hello."
Then: "Thank you."
Then make your move: "Your welcome."
She walks away confused.

Selector Benzito

2008-12-28T10:37:00.000-08:00

A little dub selection on ya.

Scientist Rids the World of the Evil Curse of the Vampires

So you all know that Scientist is hands-down tops in the world of dub. Well, this album is probably his strongest front-to-back. It works not only as a collection of grooves but also as a cohesive album that it brilliantly arranged.

The premise is very simple and is illustrated on the cover art. The drawing shows a collection of ghouls, ghosts and vampires all hanging out in a swamp. Scientist (Overton Brown) is boating around in one of those bayou fan-boats with a massive sound system strapped to the back. He is literally driving away the vampires by way of dub.

The album was supposedly mixed at midnight on Halloween in King Tubby's studio. The first track, "The Voodoo Curse," opens with a few evil laughs from the man at the controls, then quick drum roll and a driving bass beat. This first track doesn't go anywhere fast, instead it uses the space and the drone of the rhythm to take the listener out of the real world and into the dub. Only a few quick melody lines serve to break up this track. It's slow. Not a dancer or a shaker but it's there for a reason.

Scientist plays with a reverberating tone to introduce Prophet's vocals in "Dance Of the Vampires." Slick brass lines are featured on this track, and Scientist is inna fine style at 1:14, when he brings in the organ and the rhythm guitar, holds, then lets it all reverb into oblivion at 1:35. Towards the end of the song, a high toned percussion fades into a right side bongo. This song neglects to bring back the melody line in full force towards the end of the song, which is sometimes a Scientist signature.

"Blood On His Lips" is the first massive tune on the album. The feature here is the percussion from the Roots Radics' own Sticky. It serves to almost create the melody of the song, it certainly dictates the flow. The wah from the organ is all over the place, making the instrument unrecognizable in terms of it's melodic contribution. It instead serves as yet another percussive. The bass shakes you to the core.

The next track takes a bit of a step back in terms of thump. It cools things a notch down with the most prevalent instrument being a simple upstroke of the rhythm. Prophet's vocals "Hold on, to what you got...hold on baby," are placed brilliantly. (And another "oh oh oh oh ohha...and the man you gonna love, you gonna love." Another quick upstroke and a long eerie fade-out on a crisp guitar.

"This is the curse of the mummy!" Shouts Scientist. A brief pause. He coughs. A drum roll and the three most groovy piano notes open into a smash of horns and an absolutely SICK Hammond that adds it's wahed "de de do do" on the back side of the 16th beat. "The Mummy's Shroud" is the jam that turned Scott Benzenberg into Selector Benzito. I have literally listened to this tune hundreds of times. It gets better, always. What's most impressive about this song is how it both keeps the melody through the entirety of the track, yet somehow manages to build at every line. This song is a version of the Wailing Souls tune "Fire House Rock" and the original vocals come up twice in the dub version. I know this song better than any other, but it is the most difficult to write about. Just go listen to this MASSIVE CHUNE!

"The Corpse Rises" is a drone much like the very first track on the album. It is sandwiched between the two big ones on the album, and I think Mr. Brown put this track here to give you an opportunity to clean up the floor. It does, however, provide a perfectly placed upstroke breakdown in the middle, and the percussion provides a nice transition into the percussion-driven "Night of the Living Dead"

Track seven starts with a shout from Scientist, and takes a minute to get where in needs to be. It starts in the same kind of drone as track one, but a cymbal crash and a shaker beat from the percussionist Sticky gets things rolling. More frequent vocals and a smooth guitar line help start the head nod. The biggest thing to notice here is the breakdown in this song. Everything runs along smoothly until about 1:38, when Scientist kills everything but the bassline. He crashes the drum on every forth beat (but he skips one in the middle to make it funky!) The slow build ruptures at 2:20 with the Sticky shaker, with carries the track until a final jazzy guitar line fades out.

Michael Prophet's vocals are featured on this album from time to time, and he makes his first clear appearance after a real slinky guitar intro to "You Teeth in My Neck." Everything is on display to some extent in this track. It doesn't explode in the same ways that earlier tracks do, but the melody is prevalent, the bass is thumping, and the percussion is creating a back beat that counters the drum. "Let's live in love and I-nity." Righteous.

"Plague of Zombies" really is about the fall of the zombies. Scientist drove them back, and the zombie invasion is nearly over. This track is spacier than most on the album, but is also broken up by vocals or the organ at frequent intervals.

"Ghost of Frankenstein" is very different that most of the rest of the album. It's more cheery for one. The piano line is accompanied by an almost bluesy guitar that resembles the bassline. This track is also marked with lots of upstroked rhythm. The final track has a lovers feel to it. "I want you to know in this time, girl/That my heart, it's one of a kind." Scientist has rid the world of the evil curse of the vampires, and you have listened to one of the greatest albums of any genre.

Short I

2008-12-26T14:29:00.000-08:00

Well I hung around this guy who once said he knew a shortcut to get uptown. He said he there was a way around all the bullshit and all the strife. I didn't believe him, but I was interested in just how long he was going to go on pretending.

"Alright. Is there much traffic that way?" I asked him.
"None. Otherwise it wouldn't be much of a shortcut."
"That's true," I said.

So we both got in his car. It was an old kind of car, green and hard to start. It always made three or four loud smoker's coughs before it finally turned over, that time was no different I'm sure. One thing I remember about that day was how bright everything was. It had snowed the night before and the sun reflected against all the white and the ice and made it painful to look anywhere but at my feet or at the glove compartment. Whenever the natural world is too much like that, I wonder how people used to get by years ago, before Foster sunglasses, Chevy Impalas, or without a dirty apartment on 63th. Part of me thinks it was easier, like it wasn't such a problem because it was the problem. Bad weather or blinding sun was the only thing ancient people must have thought about. But I think about it more and I realize that they still needed to eat, still needed water. Still wanted to get laid.

About twenty minutes in, I said that we might as well have gone any other way because it was taking as long as it was.

"That's a lot of horseshit," my friend had said.
"You're just upset because you're wrong."
"You'll see," he said.

He was right about the traffic at least. There was no one else on the road and the sun and the snow made it seem like we were floating in the clouds. I felt drunk or high or something and my friend handed me a cigarette which just made everything spin. I started to feel a little uneasy when my this guy started saying that he was surprised I was willing to go along with him, he said he never had me figured for this sort of job.

"I mean, this is heavy shit," he said when he stopped the car.

I knew then what it was all about before I even went inside, but I didn't see the point in turning around. I told myself he was going to do what he was going to do, and that it didn't matter much whether I was around for it or not.

I kept my mouth shut until we left the place.

"He wasn't innocent, right? He did something to deserve that, right?" I asked.
"Who's innocent?" my friend said no one in particular.

The Jackson Five Want To Wish You a Merry Christmas

2008-12-22T11:05:00.000-08:00

So do we really need Christmas music at every freaking store, restaurant, cafe, movie theater, art museum, funeral parlor, party, casino and synagogue from the beginning of November through the new year?And do we really need several radio stations in any given locale dedicated solely to Christmas music?

No.

Nope, we sure don't.

But that doesn't stop every manager everywhere from thinking it's a good idea to dig out the "Jackson Five Christmas" each and every year? And it doesn't matter that the Jackson Five sing the exact same songs as Stevie Wonder, and Bette Midler, and Merle Haggard.? We need all of them?

It's not that I don't like Christmas.

"Oh, Scott, what a Scrooge bastard you are. Scott hates Christmas. Scott told five year-olds that there is no Santa. Scott is using Christmas trees as biological weapons. Rar, rar, rar."

Listen, I like the White Album by the Beatles, but if every year I had to listen to every famous musician from every era sing "Rocky Raccoon," I'd be pissed.

Enough already.

There is one exception:
"Rocking Around the Christmas Tree," by Brenda Lee.

That Intraweb All You Kids Are Talking About.

2008-12-21T09:30:00.000-08:00

So yesterday, someone else came over to view the apartment. What a disaster. She couldn't get over the fact that all the floors in the place tilted to one side or another (literally at like a fifteen degree angle.) She walked in every room and said the place was nice, but also said the floor "sure is uneven."

I don't understand why this is such a big problem. It's not like she's buying the house. She doesn't have to worry about bringing this place up to code or worry that the foundation is going to really need replacement in the next twenty years. She's only going to be living there for a year or two tops. The house is from 1872, what does she expect? Maybe she was horrified by the bathroom but was too polite to say anything.

And the stains in the toilet are from the rusty city water by the way.

In other news, I'm beginning to get in contact with my future classmates in Prague thanks to the Internet. We already have this group on facebook and everything. Maybe even some of my classmates are reading this lame blog because I have a link on my page.

I can't help but think this is unfortunate in some ways. While it does help to ease the transition, and probably cuts down on the anxiety caused by moving across the world with to people you've never had any contact with, it also takes away some of the charm.

I mean, I already have access to pictures, favorite movies, television shows, books, quotations and relationship status for my other classmates because of facebook, but I'm not sure it's always a good thing to "know" someone before even meeting them. Just because I have a certain taste in music or like a certain type of movie doesn't really mean I'm all that much like other people with similar interests.

Don't get me wrong, I really like having this information available, and I'm probably more guilty of using it than most. I just know personally that this information about people can really be used as a crutch, and maybe it can be used in lieu of actually getting to know someone. I think that a first impression should be reserved for actually meeting. Like, as in face-to-face.

Maybe this is an underlying reason for me to want to move to the Czech Republic in the first place. I think maybe the Internet, text messages, and having clear commonalities with most everyone is allowing me to get too comfortable in social situations. Not knowing a language or culture is certainly going to help combat these issues.

...Sorry, I've got to check and see if anyone has posted on my wall.

Moving

2008-12-20T11:07:00.001-08:00

So the actual process of moving is one of the most stressful and unpleasant things I can think of. I remember coming across a list of biggest fears in life, and moving was three, right after speaking in public and nuclear holocaust (interestingly, the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man wasn't even in the top ten.)

The worst part about moving is just how long of a process it is. It starts with getting boxes. Every time you go out you're thinking about getting boxes. You go to the grocery store to buy some milk and eggs, but on the way there you can only think about whether they are going to have any more apple boxes. You need to get some boxes. You need boxes, boxes, boxes.

"Oh, I hope they are filling produce right now..."

Everything you do has this subtext of getting boxes, sturdy, big boxes.

And that's just the beginning of moving, before any of the actual work or embarrassment even starts. You really know the move has begun when your landlord has people come over to view your apartment.

In other words, you get to watch the reaction of others as they judge where you have been living. This is the stage that I'm currently in, and I've got to admit that I have little depressed because I thought my apartments was pretty great, and I thought that it was a ridiculously good deal. Perspective renters don't seem to so much agree.

"So, what's the deal with the bathroom, it's a little...third world," says the apartment viewer.

"Oh, definitely. I don't expect anyone to live in a situation like this, I'll be doing some major repairs before you would move here," says my landlord.

It was like that when I moved in. It really was.

And not only that, I feel like my whole life and organizational habits are clearly on display, and any negative comments about the apartment are, like, a rejection of me.

"Hmm...not sure I'd want to put the couch in that room. Not a very good use of space."

Ouch. You're brain is a bad use of space too, Mr. Feng Shui

-Can't wait to actually start the physical process.

Three Weeks

2008-12-16T10:03:00.000-08:00

So I've never been on a plane before.

I'll say that until last night, I was just fine with this. But I got to thinking about things that I don't like:

1. Heights.
2. Closed-in spaces.
3. Public restrooms (which I thought was unrelated last night, but now I realize I'm going to have to deal with that too.)

So maybe this is some sort of way for my brain to make the intangible fear of moving to an entirely new country a little more real, but I have to say, I don't like it one bit.

I know whenever I go to the dentist's office, I pretend to be really nervous about getting drilled on, so they give me the laughing gas. For some reason, I feel guilty or weird about just asking for it, so I make all these little comments to the nurse.
"Has the dentist ever made a mistake?" Or, "What if I have to vomit?"

"Oh, you know, we should put you on gas so you'll feel more comfortable," she'll say.

"I guess. If you think that will make it easier."

I love that shit. Do they have that on planes?

"I have to say, in light of the recent terrorist attacks, I'm wondering if I might need some sort of sedative."

"Well, sir, we have wine."

"Ma'am, we're talking sides of buildings, fire, screaming. Please, I feel that nitrous may be in order. This is a bit more serious than a suspicious man with a hand-held drill. Help me."

And of course, the closer it gets to departure, especially because now I'm not in school and not working, I'll just think of more things to worry about.

Like what if the person sitting next to me loves onion and tuna sandwiches and eats them exclusively on planes next to pale-faced newbs?

I'm ready to go.

Neighborly Relations

2008-12-15T12:56:00.000-08:00

So my neighbor and I don't really get along.

We split the upstairs in this old house, and our disputes started immediately. I think she was trying to flex her aural muscles because within three hours of my move in, she was pounding on my door telling me to turn it down.

Oh, sorry. So Technotronic's classic 90's groove "Pump up the Jam" is not acceptable anymore? Should I play some Bee Gees instead? Is that the idea? Apparently not, because since then everything I play from Wu Tang to Dexter Gordon gets the same wall-banging response.

Is it loud? I'll say this: From the hours of 12 Noon until 8PM, there will be periodic intervals (never longer than an hour) wherein my shit is audible in the hallway between our apartments. I'll also say that she just antagonizes me into turning it up louder by the dumb garbage she does. For instance, instead of a polite knock, she'll shake the walls slamming doors to get me to be quiet. Oh, you like gangsta rap instead of smooth jazz, is that what you're saying in Morse code? Deal, I'll change it right away.

And she's an artist, which means she's unemployed, collects rent from her parents, and clutters the hallway with bullshit canvasses that haven't been touched in the year and a half that I've lived there.

I'm not bitter.

But really, I think I can understand how wars start on a global scale. It's not ever the big thing, it's a series of little things that build up and really just make you despise every thing that your neighbor does.

Israel: Hey Palestine, would you mind not cooking fish all the time? It's really stinking up the whole place.

Palestine: Oh, now I can't cook fish? Well then you should probably tell your friends not to smoke outside my window at night.

Israel: I mean, we're already smoking outside, the wind is not really something I can control.

Palestine: Well, you can keep them from playing the Bongo at like four in the morning, don't you think you could at least control that?

Israel: That was one time, and when your nephew comes over before his school, it sounds like he is wrestling a fucking bear. Advice: keep the kid off sugar until breakfast.

Palestine: You know, things were just fine around here until you showed up.

Israel: My family used to live in this house a long time ago.

Palestine: Whatever. (throws rocks at tanks)

Israel: Gaza Strip, Golan Heights, rah, rah, rah.

Blogger Benzito

2008-12-15T12:37:00.000-08:00

So I'm starting a blog.

This is that blog, and you are my target audience. I'm not getting paid for this, and you aren't spending any money, so maybe here is a good place to tell you to temper your expectations.

I'm not going to be telling you any sordid details about my life except whatever you might be able to discern through my worldview, so if you're looking for sex or drugs or violence, type "sex," or "drugs," or "violence" in your google search engine.

I'm not doing this for you, unless you ask nicely or give me something.

The impetus for this whole thing is the fact that I'm leaving to teach English in the Czech Republic in three weeks, so in the next twenty-one days, you'll notice that I'm sort of just filling up space with nonsensical tangents and pointless stories.