Live Blogging,Commence.

So here marks my first day of semi-continuous blogging. I had to give myself a pass this week because my boss left town and I worked 67 hours. Yes, it was pretty horrible. I suppose it could've been worse. I could've noticed the minutes ticking by, but instead, I thought it was 5:30 when it was actually 8pm. I swore to myself that my reward would be sleeping in, but I woke up at 7, struggled back to bed, and woke up for real at 9:30. So much for real sleep.

Anyway, a few things. In the past week, I finished Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman. God knows this book is alternatively trendy - any book that's for sale at Urban Outfitters is probably not on the best seller list, but is read by self-proclaimed yuppies everywhere. Anyway, I claim ignorance. I didn't know it was sold there until after I bought the book. I managed to buck up, power through, and it ended up being an alright read.

The book's general premise is to analyze pop culture and draw earth-shattering philosophical conclusions about life. And I thought that I knew a lot about pop culture so I presumed I'd "get it." I was wrong. My definition of pop culture entails current popular culture -- but this wasn't the case for Klosterman. His writing is pretty good. The first few chapters I "got," and this book largely hinges on you already knowing (at a fairly high level) what he's talking about. This brings about a tricky hit or miss situation.

When I was in college, I took a class called Wit and Humor. A lot of people thought it was a joke (no pun intended) and therefore ended up getting some unfortunate grades. However I've never thought humor was something to laugh at (pun intended). I've always enjoyed wondering about why people laugh at certain things and not at others, so I wholeheartedly embraced what most would consider the drier points of the class. Not only did we read humor, but we studied humor theory. And we learned that one of the principal reasons people laugh at jokes is to demonstrate they are in "the know". If a joke is selective and only funny to those with a certain understanding of a topic, your "in-group" status is represented solely by you showing you get the joke, so you laugh. Hard.

This is basically the entire premise upon which Klosterman's book operates. I can imagine him sitting there writing it, thinking "oh, they so know what I'm talking about". The good news is I think he's successful. The bad news is I only think he's successful.

The first few chapters I "got." MTV's The Real World is something I've watched since I was 13 years old and Stephen slapped Irene. (If you "get" that , you're probably laughing right now.) I've seen a little from almost all other seasons - of course San Francisco (Pedro dies and Puck's an asshole.), London (Neil gets his tongue bitten off), Hawaii (Ruthie is an alcoholic - I'm not so sure now after seeing countless girls do the same as her in college), Chicago (wow, Tonya), Las Vegas... I could keep listing, but let's just say that my knowledge of some seasons of this show is borderline exhaustive. So when Klosterman starts off his Real World chapter with his friend complaining that the show isn't what it used to be (I agree), his countless references to people that might seem obscure actually make complete sense to me, so I was smiling and laughing outloud at my desk (during lunch, thank you).

He also takes some (well-deserved) potshots at Coldplay and John Cusack. Some stories about Jeffrey Dahmer were also understandable and midly amusing (not that serial killers are funny, but his summations are unique). Born-again Christianity was also an comprehensible chapter, as was his dissection of Saved by the Bell. But there were two chapters that were the longest, most in-depth analyses of Billy Joel and the Lakers/Celtics rivalry, and I didn't know enough about them to enjoy them. I seriously stalled out which seldom happens these days and, at points, I just wanted the book to end. Talk about something I know about. I guess the majority of America does know a lot about these two topics, but I don't. And it made me sad. So yeah, the book was alright. Maybe if I was a little more mainstream I could've "got" it. Is it ironic that I'm too alternative to understand a book sold at Urban Outfitters? I think so.