brad is brad

Last night I ventured to Ghetto, one of the more indie of London’s gay clubs. The promoters that night had chosen to name it “Frat Party,” and this is the description from their website:

Frat Party .. aimed at a mixed crowd of students, club kids and those with a hedonistic streak

New to the Ghetto on Monday nights comes the hedonistic alcohol fuelled debacle that is ‘frat party’, based on the legendary off campus chaos of American Frat houses the night promises an orgy of drinking games, riotous rituals and all round inappropriate behavior.

Fuelled by a concoction of ridiculously cheap beer, shooters and the weekly ‘punch’ special… making it to class on Tuesday has suddenly become a mission of huge proportion.

Now, this is problematic in it’s own right, starting with the fact that the club is even called “Ghetto” at all, but the concept was too hilarious to this American, and since I’m in a country where any music remotely involving any people of colour is called “R&B,” I figured the name was largely unintentional. Then I saw this:

Yeah. A confederate flag. Next to the word “Ghetto” in glitter. And a pennant that says “Frat Party,” hanging over the fountain of “frat punch.” That’s when my brain exploded.

Now, I was giving them the benefit of the doubt, figuring the promoters didn’t know the legacy of slavery and racism that the confederate flag stands for. Then I woke up to this facebook message from a friend who had stayed longer:

I mentioned the flag to one of the bartenders, and he replied “yeah, the promoter wanted it to be a bit controvertial”, so I completely take back my comment about it being a meaningless symbol…
rather disturbed as a result.

Rather disturbed, indeed.

This post is about cultural differences. Much like the last post, in fact, and like in that post, I’ll mostly be whining about things that are different here. The shocking thing, however, is that most things are the same, and the differences make absolutely no sense. Take, for instance, ziploc bags. That’s right, plastic, resealable, freezer and microwave safe baggies.

They don’t exist here, unless you go to Marks & Spencer, which is basically the Barneys of supermarkets.

Also, undershirts. I had a bit of a laundry disaster, in which a brand new red shirt hid in a load of whites, resulting in me needing new underwear. You would think that I could get a v-neck undershirt anywhere undershirts were sold. You would be wrong. Indeed, the only place that sells them, as I was told by the salesman at the Calvin Klein underwear store, is Selfridges or Harrods. I checked three other department stores first, and he was right.

The final strange differences that I have for you is the unexplained popularity of the Abercrombie & Fitch Company.

That’s right, Abercrombie is back from sixth grade, and here to exploit your women by publishing pornographic catalogs strangely devoid of people of color. Unlike in America, where all the gays have left Abercrombie behind along with their freshman year in high school flip-up-in-the-front hairdos, Abercrombie is HOT HOT HOT among the gays in London. Half the LSE gays work at Abercrombie. And I’m told Hollister is even more popular.

Until next time (and I promise it won’t just be more whining)…

So I’ve finally arrived in London. I’m going to paste my first e-mail home under the jump for posterity, but for now I just have a simple commentary (also, check out my flickr). Last night I met Ben’s friend Antony, an American Studies major who had spent a year abroad in the States. I asked him what his favorite thing about America is, and his response was “the convenience.”

This is so incredibly true.

What I wouldn’t give for a CVS right now. CVS sells everything you need, really. You’d have to go to seven stores over here to get what you can find in one CVS at home (also see “Bed Bath & Beyond). Where this is really apparent, though is in banking. I visited six branches seven times, across three different banks, and only once came even close to opening a bank account. The LloydsTSB on Oxford Street actually tried to give me an appointment for Friday.

In America, I could have walked in and walked out with a new account in ten minutes of less. Mind you, I have all the necessary documentation in order. I just can’t find anyone empowered to create accounts for students at these banks. Either that or they’re just to busy to let me give them money. It was like I was trying to give them herpes instead of £4000.

And as promised, my first e-mail message home (minus my contact info, get in touch with me if you want it):

Read the rest of this entry »

I made a photographic expedition to my high school today; here are the best ones I took (click to enlarge):

The rest can be seen here, on my flickr.

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing one of my all time favorite bands, Rilo Kiley, at the Royal Oak Music Theatre. There are only a few things that can make this friendless month in Michigan any good, and Rilo Kiley is one of them, especially when it involves a reunion with Justine, an old friend from high school, and her friend Tina, both of whom will be in London this coming semester. Concert buddies? I think so. We’re already planning to see LCD Soundsystem and maybe Mark Ronson and possibly The Go! Team on my birthday. In fact, I have about a twenty item long list of shows that I want to see in October and November alone. I am so looking forward to London.

And the show? Incredible. Jenny Lewis is just…well, she’s the sexiest human being that I’ve ever laid eyes on. The way she moves, lazing about the stage, and then crooning in her sultry voice…yeah. Jenny Lewis.

The lead guitar/sometime vocalist, Blake Sennet, isn’t bad himself. He acted like he was on some sort of wonderful drug the entire show, but still managed to pull of great versions of “Dreamworld” and “Ripchord. The show opener, “It’s a Hit,” was just that. They wisely stuck mostly to material from More Adventurous, but their foray into Take Offs and Landings with “Wires and Waves” was also excellent. I even must admit that the songs from Under the Blacklight are better live, if still repetitive.

Rilo Kiley - It’s A Hit Rilo Kiley - It’s A Hit

Images from noodles2k50’s flickr photostream, under a Creative Commons license.

I read in the New York Times this morning that Saturday night was the last night of Misshapes, the legendary NYC hipster party. I have to say that I was a little disappointed, given my quest over the summer to find something similar in Washington, D.C., that I never got a chance to go. The District, I think, is just a little to preppy to support something like Misshapes, so when I’m there I’m relegated to places with the same old gay dance rotation. I thought I’d found a few parties with the right kind of music, but they were sparsely attended. Someone tried to tell me it was because it was summer, but i don’t quite believe them.

I’m hoping that London will bring something worthwhile - there’s a clone night there by the same name, but I’m told Misshapes London is for lesbians. You know, just writing that, I think it may actually be fun.

And a bonus, the hipster olympics (we’re forced to conclude their participation is strictly ironic):

[kml_flashembed movie="http://www.youtube.com/v/kAO4EVMlpwM" width="425" height="350" wmode="transparent" /]

So I’ve finally managed to set up a blog. What was the biggest barrier to that? Figuring out a name, and let’s be honest, “brad is brad” isn’t the best name anyone’s ever come up with for a blog, so if you have something better in mind, by all means let me know.

My motivation? Mostly because on September 28th at 10:30pm, I’m getting on a plane and crossing the Atlantic to spend a year studying at the London School of Economics (and Political Science), and I need a place to record my experiences while keeping everyone I know up to date. Ulterior motives? I want to be able to talk about things that are interesting even after I’m done in the UK, like politics and music and the news and amusing things that people do that get put on YouTube and then played for cheap laughs at their 40th birthday party.

Quality? Let’s just say I really hope that this isn’t crap.