my eviler twin sings a capella
My sister (
red_frog) quoth:
The year before last, I sang with the UC Irvine men's group called Men In Blaque. (I'm not responsible for the spelling of the name; apparently they were worried about trademark infringements and no one told them that the phrase seriously predated the movie. Me, I would have gone with Menne In Blak.) They perform music that, as I put it, runs the gamut from the sublime (Gregorian chants and all that) to the ridiculous (you guessed it). It's actually a very highly skilled and talented group of folks (generally speaking) but the director drives me nuts (much like the steering wheel in my pants), which is one reason I'm not still singing with them. On the plus side, I did get to tour Mexico (Puebla) with them and find out that my Spanish is marginally better when I'm drunk. But I digress...
The director selected me, without bothering to audition anyone, as the soloist for this piece. In this case, that meant that I did the spoken parts (as well as singing the baritone part with the ensemble), and the choreography was centered around me. (It also, for some of our concerts, involved members of the choir creeping around the audience and temporarily kidnapping small children. I am not making this up.) The musical arrangement was fairly conventional (not jazzed up as this one is) but, alas, truncated: it's missing at least one verse, possibly two.
I asked the director later and he told me that in addition to the good fit for the voice, he thought I resembled Jim Carrey. (He assured me that he meant this in a good way.) I conclude that he was basing this mostly on the dark hair, the propensity for wisecracks, the height, and the rubber face (I'm convinced, given their heritage, that my offspring are going to have Eyes As Large As Saucers and the ability to rotate their faces completely around their skulls), rather than on any actual similarity of facial features. I must admit that I enjoyed displaying what I thought was the appropriate expression for having just eaten a sandwich involving arsenic sauce.
I actually thought the rendition above was pretty funny. However, I don't think that I can reliably sing quite as low as that even when I've been up for 5 days (which doesn't necessarily help anyway). Some post-processing might help.
Updates: I'm now hosting that song myself (*paints target on chest labeled 'RIAA: SHOOT ME'*), so it should be (a) less ephemeral and (b) more easily reachable. I've also listened to the song a couple more times, and I suspect that there is actually some processing going on there--not that I haven't met a few people that could sing that low.
I want you to play this for your lovely wife and tell me if this reminds her of what it would sound like if we kept you up for five days straight, fed you doughnuts, and then demanded that you cover the original. (Anyone reading this who knows what his singing voice sounds like is welcome to weigh in as well. Me, I'm thinking it's not a perfect match, but he leapt immediately to mind when I heard it.)
The year before last, I sang with the UC Irvine men's group called Men In Blaque. (I'm not responsible for the spelling of the name; apparently they were worried about trademark infringements and no one told them that the phrase seriously predated the movie. Me, I would have gone with Menne In Blak.) They perform music that, as I put it, runs the gamut from the sublime (Gregorian chants and all that) to the ridiculous (you guessed it). It's actually a very highly skilled and talented group of folks (generally speaking) but the director drives me nuts (much like the steering wheel in my pants), which is one reason I'm not still singing with them. On the plus side, I did get to tour Mexico (Puebla) with them and find out that my Spanish is marginally better when I'm drunk. But I digress...
The director selected me, without bothering to audition anyone, as the soloist for this piece. In this case, that meant that I did the spoken parts (as well as singing the baritone part with the ensemble), and the choreography was centered around me. (It also, for some of our concerts, involved members of the choir creeping around the audience and temporarily kidnapping small children. I am not making this up.) The musical arrangement was fairly conventional (not jazzed up as this one is) but, alas, truncated: it's missing at least one verse, possibly two.
I asked the director later and he told me that in addition to the good fit for the voice, he thought I resembled Jim Carrey. (He assured me that he meant this in a good way.) I conclude that he was basing this mostly on the dark hair, the propensity for wisecracks, the height, and the rubber face (I'm convinced, given their heritage, that my offspring are going to have Eyes As Large As Saucers and the ability to rotate their faces completely around their skulls), rather than on any actual similarity of facial features. I must admit that I enjoyed displaying what I thought was the appropriate expression for having just eaten a sandwich involving arsenic sauce.
I actually thought the rendition above was pretty funny. However, I don't think that I can reliably sing quite as low as that even when I've been up for 5 days (which doesn't necessarily help anyway). Some post-processing might help.
Updates: I'm now hosting that song myself (*paints target on chest labeled 'RIAA: SHOOT ME'*), so it should be (a) less ephemeral and (b) more easily reachable. I've also listened to the song a couple more times, and I suspect that there is actually some processing going on there--not that I haven't met a few people that could sing that low.
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told you it was funnier than you knew.
Re: told you it was funnier than you knew.
(Of course, what good it would do me to have known this ahead of time I can't tell you, but I could try to think of something.)
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Let me get back to you about that part. ;>
(And yes, I like that scene. For those of you tuning in late, my friend
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And actually I think we have mutual friends who are considerably more plausible as the God of Sarcasm than he is.
Pack rats...strangely enough, I don't really think of him as a pack rat. More as someone who (among other things) dislikes the *process* of getting rid of certain kinds of things, which is (to me) a different kind of phenomenon.
Tasteless Humor: mmm, not really. But then I may be prejudiced. :) I think that he appreciates humor more for its cleverness than anything else (and occasionally disregards taste).
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While I do admit to some moments of tasteless humor, and *braaaaapp* the occasional belch, and a dose of packrattitude, if I were really to aspire to the Godhood of something . . .
. . . I'd like it to be the God of Analogies. I love finding them, constructing them, analyzing them and their close relatives called homomorphisms, telling stories using them, and unearthing the roots of them (esp. when the analogies are in the form of wacky idiomatic expressions -- then I'm happy as a pig in Congress). Plus, analogies are a major coin of the realm when you're teaching.
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I'd like to put in a bid for being the God of either Devil's Advocacy (ah, the irony...) or Casuistry. ;>
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1) As I know I mentioned to you on the phone after this post, isomorphisms and diffeomorphisms are both types of homomorphisms, and thus are already covered.
2) I am not sure that you want to be the God of Casuistry, given these definitions. :-)
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*laughing helplessly*
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"...As pure as the driven slush..." ???
-Pearl Necklace, by ZZ Top
:)
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She doesn't need a reason to beat you up. She's the oldest, it's her birthright! :)
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Besides, who said anything about her beating me up? I assume that she has emissaries to do these little things for her--don't we all? ("Want I should kneecap 'im, boss?")
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*heavy sigh*
No respect. Ever.
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You know him in person? Imagine the same thing, only female, a few inches shorter (only a few) and three years older. You've more or less got it.
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(Honestly, while there are some similarities, I'm not convinced that the resemblance is that strong--or at least I suspect that it might give people the wrong idea. Not that this is necessarily to your detriment. :> But I guess that it's one of the least misleading short ways to describe yourself to someone that knows me in person.)
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I, on the other hand, am in fact a hang-gliding platypus with a miniature Renaissance-style hat. Or, according to my whim, a cat in a fencing mask. Even occasionally a disembodied head on a decaying castle's chopping block.
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(Did you somehow manage to miss it hanging above our dining room table when you visited?)
No, no. It's a platypus stuffed animal--a gift from Megan. I named him Darwin. :)
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I had a Smurf hanging in my college dorm freshman year. Of course, it was wearing a blindfold and had a noose around its neck.
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::raises eyebrows::
Steering wheel
Re: Steering wheel
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My phonation in that range is not extremely loud, but microphones, amplification, and compression can work wonders with this stuff. I don't think the Rockapella bass is using any processing beyond that to reach those notes.
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I have been able to sing as low as a low Bb before, but I may have had a cold at the time. :)
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