As you may have gleaned from my previous post, I have recently started working in Skokie and now spend a serious portion of my week—10 HOURS—driving to and from work. Because I am forced to, you know, look at the road, and not at a book or the New Yorker (as was my wont when I took the train every day), I have found that my daily choice of music is a lot more important than it was in my former, environmentally friendly life. Today, for instance, I found Bohemian Rhapsody on the oldies station, and spent a happy 7 minutes pretending I was in Wayne's World.
But because the radio is 98.9 percent of the time terrible and not worth the bother, I tend to put a lot of trust into my ipod and very-ancient cd collection. For instance, I have a cd called "80s mix tape," that I bought at target for the sole reason that it has Elvis Costello's Veronica on it. Or the classic "Fluences Fluences Fluences," which is an amalgam of the dirtiest songs you've ever heard (love in her mouth, put it in my mouth…), 80s gold (I'm coming out, I touch myself,) 60s pop (ABC, band of gold), and total randoms (the origin of love???). But the cd I love the most most most, and it's totally terrible and I made it myself, is the collection of 15 songs I purchased on my work computer and had to burn to a cd to transfer them to my home computer. The cd consists of:
10 Country songs (including Rascal Flatts's Skin, which is hands-down the saddest song on earth) (and Something like that, by Tim McGraw, which has only recently reentered my life but which so reminds me of high school that I can smell our house from Spring Break, which, frankly, didn't smell so good. All that coconut rum.)
4 songs from High School Musical (the original, pre-original-zac-vocals, pre-zac-looks-enough-like-a-
And
My Favorite
The Year 3000 by the Jonas Brothers
Now, before I continue with my commentary, I ask that you watch this youtube video for your edification.
Now, let's think about this song. First of all, you have to respect the flux capacitor name-drop in a song written by a bunch of boys born in the 90s, but maybe, right, they should have seen the movie? Because they say they drove off in a flux capacitor, but EVERYONE knows that you can't get IN a flux capacitor! You get IN a Delorean which is able to time travel BECAUSE of the flux capacitor! Get it right, boys!
But that error is easily overlooked in light of their ATROCIOUS math. As you may have noticed by watching the video, the boys claim to have traveled to the year 3000, where they met "your great, great, great granddaughter." Now, I know that I don't have superior math skills, but after rough (and very generous) calculation, I determined that the great great great granddaughter of a girl who is currently a teenager would be approximately 800 YEARS OLD in the year 3000.
That's not like saying she's 100, or even 200 (who knows how long we'll be living in the year 3000), but 800. Even if we assume that our life expectancy doubled since the year 1000, there is simply NO POSSIBLE WAY that we will be living to 800 in a mere 4 generations. Im. Possible. Maybe those Jonas Brothers should have, I don't know, gone to high school? Taken some anthropology? Biology? ARITHMETIC?
This bothers me every single time I listen to the song. Plus, they claim that in the year 3000, their 7th album has gone multi-platinum and they outsold Kelley Clarkson. Also, impossible. Also, how could that be a surprise to them? Was their 7th album released posthumously? I mean, isn't it totally likely that a group of teenage boys who are already on at least their 2nd or 3rd album would live to see the release of their 7th? Unless, somehow, it took 900-ODD YEARS for it to sell a million copies?
Do you think they'll still have mp3s in the year 3000? Because, additionally, according to the Jonas Brothers, we'll all be living underwater, and WHO KNOWS if music will even still exist (I mean, other than their 7th album).
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