Dear Marc Jacobs....

Stop being naked all the time.

We get it--you started working out and have a marginally good body.

Guess what: You aren't the only one. In fact, despite your efforts, you don't look like, say, Chris Evans, who has every right to be shirtless at all times.

Get over yourself. I mean, seriously. We like you for you clothes, and could really care less about you physically.

And, let's be frank, your face is kind of busted. Whaaa Whaaa.

Yours,
Seth

An Open Letter to Usher

Dear Usher,

Stop. Killing. The. Planet.


As it is that I work at a high fashion magazine, my boss, the Editor-in-Chief, is invited to pretty much any event involving fashion. That being the case, the time is upon us for the release of Usher's new fragrances for men and women. Today my boss received her invitation for what is sure to be a star-studded-face-fest, and after getting my hands on this...thing...I have concluded this: it is not global warming, it is not the oil industries, it is not we non-recycling humans who are destroying he planet. No, it's USHER. OK, well actually it's the fashion industry and their flagrant insistence on spending too much money and too much material on ridiculous invitations and press materials for their bullshit products. And after receiving the invitation to Usher's "evening of elegance, glamour and theater," I can be silent no more.

I went to reception to pick up a bag for Robbie thinking it was just another gift from another designer. I get the bag, note it's shape and weight, and realize that, because no one gifts jewelry, the box in the bag is probably what I think it is. I open the bag and this is what I find:



The circular emblem of text reads "IT IS NOT HOW FAMOUS UR - IT IS WHAT UR FAMOUS FOR."

"Dear God," I think. I open the box. It gets worse:



"Please, please tell me this includes a book, a CD, candy, gold...something," I continue.

Alas, it does not:




"Usher, you stupid stupid pig fucker," I finally bemoan. Inside this leather bound box was an inch-thick, hard plastic, ornately decorated invitation that could easily kill someone if aimed at the head correctly. Not only that, but you will notice it was pretentiously placed in a velvet inlay that required the pull of a satin ribbon to remove....

WHAT. THE. FUCK!

I mean, seriously...tell me you are kidding with this shit! First of all, ur Usher and ur releasing a fragrance; not a new fashion line, not a new store, not anything remotely deserving of such wastefulness as say, I don't know, ur own wedding? No, you make this obscene, trite, regretfully tacky invitation for the launch of a women's and men's scent that will presumably smell like a floral car freshener and a concoction of those ingredients which you consider manly such as pine, vanilla, musk, aviators, fur coats, bling and your own nymphomaniacal sweat. I just need one good reason--besides, of course, that ur the almighty Usher--that it is even remotely necessary to waste so much on something that will be thrown away in a week? It goes without saying that you have to invite a good handful of people because, ya know, ur Usher, but shouldn't that make you a little more reserved with your chosen invitation? In a Hollywood society that has latched onto the idea of "going green" like a fat girl to a corndog, it amazes me that Usher would blatantly present something so improvident.

Usher, however, only serves as another notch on the let's-waste-money-because-it's-fashion post. I can't tell you how many times I've received press material from designers or jewelers about their new lines. In fact I've got a press kit from Pom Pom in my cubicle right now that rivals Usher in wastage. Now I'm all for saving the polar bears and what not, and I don't portent to be the most bio-friendly person on the block, but I will say I am becoming more aware of what needs to be done, and it truly has become offensive what these PR companies and fashion houses will do to promote their shit. We know it's out there. We have computers. We have Style.com and we read fashion magazines. I don't need your 40 pound book ensconced in a plastic case, Gucci.

So, Usher. If it truly is not how famous ur, but what ur famous for, I think we've got you pegged. Lead on, Wasty McWasters, lead on.

Seth

How to Save the Polar Bears

By now most of you are probably aware that I am on a big "save the polar bears" kick. I've posted the heart wrenching video from Planet Earth in which a male polar bear swims 60 miles to find food, only to come upon a hoard of walruses that he cannot overtake for food. Beaten, gored and tired, the polar bear digs a shallow hole in the ground, lies down and dies. I've cried every time I've watched it, but I only have myself and my fellow humans to blame. Because of shrinking polar ice caps, food is isolated and spread out, making the fight for survival that much more difficult for a species that will likely be extinct in less than 50 years.

Need a reminder of the tragedy? Here ya go:



Now, what are we going to do about this? Through a number of discussions with fellow polar bear sympathizers, I have come up with two plans. OK, well two besides the obvious plan of just being more aware of what we do to our planet. Post-Al Gore, Leonardo DiCaprio and Captain Planet I don't need to sit here and tell you what we have to do to try and save the Earth and all the amazing things on it. But, if I can offer a couple of plausible, albeit "unconventional" alternatives, allow me to do so:

1. Monthly Food Rations for the Polar Bears

But where will such food come from you might ask? At the brilliant suggestion of a one Mr. Benjamin Pryor, it has been proposed that every month a boat is sailed to the poles loaded with murderers, rapists and pedophiles. Seedy politicians and Britney Spears are welcomed as well. Starting with the most severe of offenders, they will be given proper rations and supplies to survive for a number of days until they are eventually mauled and eaten by polar bears. They will of course be given no weapons or anything available to use as defense. Their clothing and supplies will be sprayed with some sort of odor, perhaps beef bullion or eau de seal to attract the bears. Considering the state of the polar bear food situation, it shouldn't take long for the bears to become adapted to the monthly delivery, ensuring that these criminals will be dispatched in a timely manner. Also, it was favorably suggested by Andrew Heim that the delinquents' hands be removed to not only safeguard baby polar bears from pointy fingers, but also keep potentially crafty individuals from gaining an advantage over the polar bears.

2. Walrus Handbags

Confused? Let me elaborate. And please forgo any barbaric allusions, as I am simply trying to save the goddamn polar bears. If you noticed in the video posted above, one of the toughest obstacles for the polar bear to overcome in his attempt to kill a male walrus was the walrus' extremely tough, impenetrable skin. Their epidermic state being as such, my collegue, Dontre Conerly, noted how fantastic their skin would be for handbags. "That shit would last forever!" he exclaimed. And he is right, it would last forever, and would also aid in the polar bear food crisis. Let's point out the obvious: there is no shortage of walruses in the world. That being the case, human intervention--with all our arbalestic ingenuity--could easily neutralize a walrus, take its hide, and leave a healthy meal for one or two polar bears. Now, I'm not talking about a mass poaching of the walrus; only enough to a) provide food for struggling polar bears and b) create a new fashion craze that would take the heat off of other valuable, but overused hides. By carefully rationing the amount of harvested walrus skin, it would ensure a degree of luxury to the subsequent bags, meaning they would be elusive and prices would be high. With a hefty price tag attached to the bag, it would translate into large profits from which portions could be donated to the save the polar bear cause. Basically the creation of the handbags would continue what nature started ages ago before the ice caps started melting. We have interfered with and disrupted the hunter-vs-prey process, therefore we have no choice but to become a part of the process to ensure a restored balance. Humans become the symbolic ice bridges that the polar bears use to get back to their food.


I think with careful planning and government support, either of these entirely tenable plans would work. Because polar bears need our help. And all it takes is a little sacrifice to make it happen. I mean, the polar bears are making sacrifices for us, right? It's only right that we do the same.


Seth

Eric and Seth: Book and Book-ability

I had quite an interesting Facebook Wall conversation today with my good friend, Eric Mueller. It's funny, yeah, but also sort of interesting if you think about it. Enjoy:

Eric Mueller (Santa Fe) wrote
at 12:47am

If you read a book online does that still count as reading a book?

Hmmmmmmmm...this is going to keep me up tonight

Eric Mueller (Santa Fe) wrote
at 12:51am

Like, you can read the news from a newspaper, and you can read the news online...but you cant read the newspaper online

Eric Mueller (Santa Fe) wrote
at 9:58am

You can however "bookmark" web pages

The plot thickens...(pun?)

Seth Plattner wrote
at 10:18am

Hey, take it easy over there. I've already got enough on my plate without the conundrum of the validity of cyber literature.

But, one must also consider: what constitutes the reading of a book and/or newspaper? The physical act of turning a page? Or simply the intake and organization of words? And if it comes down to just page ingestion then we could easily argue that, if a book is read online, we are still in fact reading webPAGES....

Good God look what you've done to me...

Eric Mueller (Santa Fe) wrote
at 10:44am

Yes, yes I came across that same theory earlier on as well
But the internet is a little different. In the real world, what is and what is not a book is quite clear.

However, online I'm afraid is quite the opposite. How can you tell the difference from a book online and just a long typed story? Is it a book just because it says it is a book?
Does actual physical publishing in the real world validate it's..."book-ness" online?

If you pay to view it online does that make it a book? If so then are blogs and forums, that you pay for to view, books? To go further, books can have multiple authors, as well as editors. Forum moderators and admins have to power to edit what is said on blogs and forums…

Eric Mueller (Santa Fe) wrote
at 10:44am

Then you have the Public Domain to take into mind. Centuries of Literature, ancient libraries composed of thousands upon thousands of authors; everything from that written world can be digitized on a single webpage…for free. Is it then one book, or many, or is it just a series of long written stories?

Now here comes the big brain twister. Is it, in this digital age, that a page now consists of books rather than a book consisting of pages?

Seth Plattner wrote
at 10:53am

But, in following your argument, if pages may now consist of books, we are lead right back to your previous observance: books can now be compiled on pages, but do those pages, though made up of books, in turn become books (again)? Of course, as you pointed out, it simply depends on what defines a book. I'm afraid we've found ourselves in a dialogue of circularity.

We need to publish and essay on this. Are we revolutionaries?

Eric Mueller (Santa Fe) wrote
at 2:31pm

I think I have come to the conclusion that a book is the name of the physical object of the complied story in the physical world.

If you read a "book" online it is not a book, because it is only the digital manifestation of the story and not the physical object - a book.

So in short: Online, it should be called a story/fiction/non-fiction/

or whatever else genre it is, not a book.
For example: “Oh man I just read some really good fiction online today.”
Not: “Oh man I read this really crappy book online today.”
For a mixed example, (using both the digital and physical world) “Wow that was such a great story online. I think I’m going to buy the book later on today.”

Does that fit?

Seth Plattner wrote
at 2:34pm

I believe we are settled.

That was intense...

Eric Mueller (Santa Fe) wrote
at 2:42pm

So therefore, if someone asks me, "How many books have you read recently?" I will have to say none...

Great

Withdrawal

Seth is...

Beaten Worn Ripped Scarred Slashed Hurt
Ached Trodden Warped Scratched Mutilated
Bruised Neglected Shattered Trampled Weakened
Broken Shredded Forgotten Slapped Marred
Torn Burned Whipped Crushed Dissolved
Smashed Mangled Erased Discarded Starved
Pommeled Obliterated Slaughtered Nullified Scorned
Hated Ravaged Maimed Crippled Deformed
Wounded Scraped Paralyzed Battered Wrecked
Gnarled Lashed Faded Gnawed Destroyed

Spent

Utterly Spent

Who are You (According to Grease 2)?

After introducing my roommate Aja to the immeasurable joys of Grease 2, we've concluded that there is only way to separate the world into two, very polar, very black and white groups: Those who like Grease 2 and those who don't. Usually everyone tries to avoid labels and say things like "It's not that easy to just separate people into two marked groups," or "There has to be a gray area." Well, with Grease 2 it is precisely that easy, because everyone who has seen or will see it always knows how they feel about it the minute it ends (or, in my case, after Michelle Pfeifer sings "Cool Rider").

So ya like it or ya don't is basically what I'm saying. And derived from that opinion is the type of person you are. What we decided is that if you don't like it, you can be characterized as a stick in the mud. Someone who doesn't realize the value of intentional camp. One who thinks that movie prowess is equivalent to only appreciating the art house indie or the studio darling. That person who can't watch G2 and understand that, despite it's over-the-top cheesiness, there lies an actual thread of thought and wit: Michelle Pfiefer's chic and entirely modern wardrobe? Fabulous! The cinematography in "Who's That Guy?" Sexy! The Heller-esque absurdist satire meant to reveal the inherent inanity of the wartime in which the movie is set? Brilliant! Ok, that last one may be a bit of a stretch, but, I would still argue that the movie has some cinematic merit if you just watch (again, I site the red-wash lighting in "Cool Rider" that only enhances Pfeifer's badass Stephanie Zinon).

Now, those of us that watch the movie are the ones who can have fun at the movies. We can appreciate a campy crap-fest because it was made for precisely that reason--to be ridiculous and funny and even better after a few beers. We understand that to take G2 as a serious feature is to entirely miss the purpose of its creation. To compare it to the original Grease is simply idiotic, only guaranteeing that one would miss the value of G2. The true movie genius will also understand that, in the face of tradition and witless dedication, G2 actually has the better soundtrack. Watch both movies back-to-back, wait an hour or two, and just wait and see which soundtrack you start humming.

This is our assessment. No, our truth. Those reading know we're right, and most of you likely fall into the latter category simply because you've heard someone else say "Grease 2? What a shitty movie." your response: "Oh I know, it's so stupid." When you're really saying in your head "But it's just so fabulous!." Watch it again with one of your best friends, someone you know won't judge you and see how much more tolerable it is when you have your guard down, when you know that you are just going to have fun watching. As soon as it's finished, grab your ball and shoes, head down to the bowling alley and have your own sing-a-long with "Score Tonight."

Seth

Simple Pleasures....

Some thing that just make me smile...

Saturday in New York, 70 degrees, sun shining.

The changing aspens in Colorado.

Colored match heads.

Soft pillows.

The perfect cup of coffee (cream, 1 1/2 sugars).

"Banana Wind" by Jimmy Buffett.

When someone holds your thumb.

Guilty pleasure movies.

A dirty martini w/ blue cheese olives.

Horseback riding.

Thinking the same thing as your best friend.

Taking a cat nap with a cat.

Azaleas.

Holding feet while cuddling.

Cupcakes.

Writing a really great sentence.

Reading a really great sentence.

Milk.

A good commercial.

Laughing when you're not supposed to.

Dogs.

Campfires.

Belting showtunes in the car with a friend.

Cold pools on hot days.

A smile from across the room.

Smelling cologne/perfume that reminds you of someone.

Great outfits.

Tea and scones.

Floating.

"I miss you."

Late-night sushi.

Meeting someone and knowing they'll be in your life forever.



What are yours?


Seth

The Fray: A Year Later

I'm a little slow on the uptake here, so please forgo the judgment--I'm well aware.

Nevertheless this post is a manifestation of opinion, mostly formulated this morning while I watched The Fray's AOL Music Session.

Let me interject here and give due credit to AOL for their Music Sessions. If you aren't watching them already you should be. Seriously, they have every artist from Neil Diamond to Dashboard Confessional and they are wonderful, intimate performances of the best the artists have to offer.

As I was saying, The Fray. I tried for a long time to avoid this band, not because I didn't like their music but because I just kept hearing everyone talk about them (and isn't interesting how every person in the world was the first to discover them?!). Not to mention "Over My Head (Cable Car)" was all over the radio. And I will openly admit: I tapped my foot to it, I bobbed my head, I belted it in my car, I knew every word...I loved it. However, the pangs of conforming kept me from buying the album and I moved on, or tried to. And then along comes "How to Save a Life." Poignant, beautiful, catchy and ultimately tied to one of the most addictive TV shows in history, Grey's Anatomy.

Obviously these guys and their managers know how to work a formula, and if it bothered me at first, it was something that I just had to resign myself to, because I like them. There I said it. And ya know why me, my mother and every other emotional soul out there loves them? Because they are the band you wish wasn't mainstream. They are the group you wished you stumbled upon on MySpace music or in some second hand CD shop. They are the band you wished you could say "Hey have you heard The Fray? No? Well listen to this," to which your friends would respond with awe and admiration for your uncanny musical prowess.

The Fray is not this. But they sound like they are, and that's why I can't help but adore their music. Perhaps some, or most, of this is tied up in my existence as an emotional junkie, one who is never afraid to wear his feelings on his sleeve or the find the next sad song to express how I'm feeling. I respond with a great deal of relevancy to their lyrics--most recently and tortuously to "Look After You" which I can't stop playing because it so describes my life right now. And I know they are sometime sappy and a little too addicted to the song that sends a message, but even if that's not your fare, everyone can still relate to it publicly or privately.

Beyond content is the aesthetic of their music. Pianos, violins, acoustics: all those instruments that only serve to aggrandize the emotional punch of the songs. The most effective "instrument" though for me is Isaac Slade's voice. He cracks it in all the right places; he pushes it when it needs to be pushed; pulls it back when appropriate; and, his tone is so undeniably sexy that it becomes the perfect addition to The Fray Formula which produced The Fray Fixation for The Fray Fans. And--ugh--I am now amassed forever with The Fray Fans.

I feel like I'm in The Fray's Anonymous meeting. "Hi, I'm Seth...and I like The Fray." But isn't that first step to reconciliation? I feel proud of myself and, yes, I like--oh Hell--I love The Fray.

Random Lists

Though most of you don't know it, I'm sort of a list maker. I'm always thinking about the Top 10 this or the Top 5 that, and occasionally I jot them down--and spare me the Reality Bites comparison. I know I'm not that original. Avril Lavigne inspired the original post, so I present, with no precision, some random lists.

*none of these lists are in any particular order. I'm too indecisive to differentiate. I like what I like.

Top 10 Recorded Vocal Performances:
10. Bartender - Dave Matthews Band
9. Defying Gravity (Wicked) - Idina Menzel
8. He Touched Me - Heather Headley
7. Star Spangled Banner - Whitney Houston
6. Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson
5. Not Ready to Make Nice - The Dixie Chicks
4. I'm With You - Avril Lavigne
3. Romulus - Sufjan Stevens
2. Time to Say Goodbye - Andrea Bocelli (the one with Sarah Brightman isn't bad either)
1. The Flesh Failure - The Actors' Fund of America Benefit Performance

Top 5 Writing Utensils:
5. Paper Mate Sharpwriter (the yellow ones with the twist up lead)
4. Pilot Precise V-7
3. Ticonderoga lead pencil
2. Any Mont Blanc Fountain Pen, preferably the Meisterstück
1. Sharpie Marker (on large surfaces)

Top 5 Cereals:
5. Captain Crunch
4. Count Chocula
3. Fruity Pebbles
2. Cinnamon Toast Crunch
1. Frosted Flakes

5 Thing that Make a Perfect Saturday:
5. Latte
4. Shopping in Soho
3. An afternoon movie
2. Great dinner with great wine
1. A few drinks with friends

10 Songs that Make Me Cry:
10. Night After Night - The Sounds
9. Sailing - Christopher Cross
8. The First Day of My Life - Brighteyes
7. Amazing Grace
6. Angels Among Us - Alabama
5. I'll Cover You (Reprise) - Rent (seriously, I've cried all 15 times I've seen the show).
4. Look After You - The Fray
3. Colorblind - Counting Crows
2. Say Hello, Wave Goodbye - David Gray
1. The Luckiest - Ben Folds

Welcome Back

If you leave New York, you ain't goin' nowhere.

I stole that quote; from whom I have no idea. Nevertheless, I find it presently poignant now that I am back in the city that I prematurely left almost exactly a year ago. To say I didn't go anywhere would likely be hyperbolic. Professionally, sure, I was a waste in Denver. Emotionally and mentally, though, Denver was a wake up call, so it was good for me in that way. But, considering the momentum I had built in New York--graduating with high honors from NYU, interning at SNL, solidifying a group of amazing friends--when I left I left a lot behind.

Though, as city life would have it, coming back to New York proved to be just as--maybe even more so--fervent and opportunistic as it was when I left. Within two weeks of leaving Denver I was already back in the city interviewing for a job I subsequently got, expediting me into the northeast before I even had time to reflect. I had contented myself with being home for a while, enjoying the friends, family and freedom of Arkansas. But, as opportunity comes at you with a battering ram sometimes, I had no choice but to leap the chance to reclaim a life I was afraid I was losing.

Interestingly enough, being back isn't quite what I expected. When I left I was a student, a youngster, a 22 year old kid who thought that everything would just fall into place. I spent my last months of college writing papers at the last minute and drinking more alcohol in a week than I had in previous months. It was uncharacteristic but fun, and I don't want to give the impression I regret it. But, a year later, a year older, a year more mature or maybe just more aware, New York isn't NYU. We all have jobs that require 7 a.m. wake up calls. 9-5 is a schedule that doesn't exist here. Some of us are lucky to leave work by 7 p.m. Yes, kids, this is the real world. Of course we still go out and no doubt we are still young (the operative word here) adults. But when I found out I was coming back so soon I had to ready myself for a New York that wasn't familiar. I didn't come back to a dorm; I didn't come back to a class schedule and I certainly didn't come back with a healthy checking account balance. I was entering into a city where it was time for me to finally fend for myself, for better or worse. Whereas I used to return to New York apprehensive because I had just spent a winter or summer break at home having fun with friends only to be thrown back into school work, now I was distressed precisely because I no longer could identify with that life anymore. This was, is, new and unexplored territory.

Forgive me if I sound whiny. That is hardly my intention. I simply have to verbalize the whirlwindeness of this experience. Like anything and everything, it has sent me into a recess of reflection, so, alas, this blog. I am, most definitely, glad to be back here. Different is good; and I know I have so many amazing things in store for me being back here. Not only with my job, but with relationships and personal development. Like anything good for you, it takes a degree of adjustment, and that's exactly what I'm doing. Even though I wasn't keen on the idea of adjusting to a place I thought I was already mine, I am, without a doubt, adjusting.


Seth