The Top 15 Albums of 2016

2017 is upon us! Well that only took way too freakin’ long. Little elaboration is necessary to explain that 2016 was an abysmal year, unless you’re a neo-Nazi or a subterranean critter feasting away in a Hollywood cemetery. I wonder how long it will be before college students can take “2016” as an entire course in political science, history, or sociology. My guess is by 2050, assuming we’re all still around for it.

It was also a brutal 12 month stretch for me personally. I resigned to moving back in with my parents, continued to fail in the job search, and dealt with some turbulence in the stormy realm between my ears.

But the silver lining of 2016 was easily the omnipresent distraction culture, entertainment available at our fingertips whenever we want it at little to no financial burden. I surmise it will ultimately prove to be either the undoing or salvation of the powerless masses as we descend into a Phillip K. Dick-esque dystopia. What I’m trying to say is: music is good; and no matter how much the literal and metaphorical world crumbles around us, it will always be there. Along with pro wrestling and Game of Thrones, music provided a lot of solace for me in 2016, proving capable of yanking me out of the most constrictive feelings of entropy.

The good news is more music is being made than ever before, a trend that will continue in years to come. And thanks to Spotify, Bandcamp, Soundcloud and whatever app will soon arrive to drive my data bill up the wall, it’s easier than ever to discover and appreciate practically everything on the market.

I was originally going to write a traditional Top 10, but the sheer quantity of quality music this year made it seem a too-narrow testament, so I’m expanding it to 15. Here are, based on my personal tastes, the 2016 albums most worthy of your time and attention.

‘Fantastic Beasts’ An Excellent Expansion of the ‘Harry Potter’ Universe

Photo: Bohm Theatre

When I first heard that “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” was becoming a theatrical spinoff of that scar-faced boy wizard series, I rolled my eyes and groaned. I interpreted as many folks did, a cash grab that would be thrown together clumsily and without regard to artistic quality. All that mattered was the bottom line, and association with the biggest cultural juggernaut of the 2000s would mean that to meet the monetary expectations, little effort would be needed.

Rest assured, I referred to the “Harry Potter” franchise as I did in the first sentence in ironic jest. Like many of my generation, J.K Rowling gave me some of the fondest memories of my childhood and adolescence. I’ve read each book at least half-a-dozen times and I see the eight films, decent at worst (“Goblet of Fire”) and a masterpiece at best (“Prisoner of Azkaban”), are the standard bearer for serialized, long form cinematic storytelling. The scene in “Boyhood” where Ellar Coltrane and Lorelai Linklater attend the midnight release of the “The Half-Blood Prince” in costume gave me the biggest nostalgiagasm I can remember.

And to potentially besmirch all of that with “Fantastic Beasts,” which was subsequently announced to be a five-film series even before the first was released, is like if Da Vinci decided to do another portrait of the Mona Lisa when she was in her mid-80s, her beauty ransacked by time and age.

On Discourse: Why We Need It, and Nationalism: Why We Don’t

Photo: Like Success

Before I get into the body of this piece, I would like to ruminate on the fact that I am just now venturing into the realm of political commentary, after many years of containing my writing to the realms of the arts, personal reflection, comedy, and once in a great while, social commentary. That’s not by coincidence, it’s by commitment.

Keep in mind that I, beginning from a younger age than most, expressed in deep interest in politics. I devoted much of my collegiate studies to them, and have never been afraid to steer a conversation in a political direction, be it with close confidants or present company. But writing about them in a public medium, I’ve learned to resist the temptation.

Running From Trump: America Calls Its Own Bluff

Photo: freedomsphoenix.com

I had a bit in my stand up routine where I mocked all those who vowed to evacuate the United States following the presidential election. When I performed it, I said it applied to people fearing both Hilary and Trump, but in writing it, I really only had the Trump opposition in mind.

It went along the lines of, “To everyone planning on packing up and getting out for the next four years, wherever you go, I hope you realize that at some point you’re going to have to explain that you are an American political refugee.”

‘Doctor Strange’ Actually Quite Ordinary, And Not All That Good

Photo: comicbook.com

Imagine eating a rich, dark, brick of the finest artisan fudge. The first bite you take from it is almost overpowering with flavor. The second is, while not quite as profound, still immensely satisfying. As you continue to chomp away at the fudge in rapid succession, you notice that by your seventh or eighth mouthful that much of the flavor has diminished, and that you’re chewing on a piece of creamy, masterfully crafted plaster. “Doctor Strange,” the newest entry into the increasingly omnipresent Marvel cinematic universe, is that eighth bite of fudge, a victim of overindulgence.

A Different Kind of Super Bowl Tradition, Involving Frigid Fingers and Muddy Pants

For me up until about a few years ago, Super Bowl Sunday was not about the exuberant party, the million dollar advertisements, or even the game, unless it involved the New England Patriots (shut up, I’m from there). It was certainly about a game of football, but not the one the free world made a makeshift holiday over.

If you want to the gauge the maturity of an assortment of kids, ask them to play a game of touch football. It will give you a more accurate assessment than any bubble-sheet examination in a psychologist’s office.

For any generation of American suburbanites, touch football (along with Wiffle Ball) is as much of a pastime as trick-or-treating or fireworks on the Fourth of July. It was the activity of choice for innumerable summer afternoons, weekends in autumns before the first snowfall, and in springtime once lawns had transformed back from mud to grass.

Review: ‘The Hateful Eight’

Photo: redcarpertcrash.com

Quentin Tarantino is becoming the new Alfred Hitchcock. Not in the sense of the man, but the name. If one is unfamiliar with “Rope” or “The Birds,” before sitting down to watch it, you can simply say “it’s a Hitchcock,” and they’ll gather a basic cloud of expectation.

Both directors leave such a vivid fingerprint of themselves on their work, their filmographies gain a reputation, and you can never review their films without speaking heavily of the men themselves.

Review: ‘Star Wars: The Force Awakens’ (Spoiler Free)

Photo: Huffington Post

Foreword: When I say that this review is spoiler free, I mean that I won’t be giving away anything gasp-worthy, or what the trolls have been surreptitiously placing on random Reddit posts. However, I will be giving away background details, as much that’s revealed within the first act, which is my standard policy for reviews. But this is also being published after “The Force Awakens'” opening weekend, so let’s be real, you’ve seen it. I don’t you know why you would be reading this if you hadn’t. But if you are, thanks for the attention.

If the nearly quarter-billion in earnings from the opening weekend doesn’t prove that the release “Star Wars: the Force Awakens” isn’t the most anticipated event in 2015, then our standards of proof need to be re-measured.

I will admit that I chose not to ride the “Star Wars” hype-wing. My distrust of director J.J. Abrams following, at least what I saw, as a butchering of the “Star Trek” reboot quelled my expectations.  And although I was in first grade when it came out, I hadn’t forgotten what happened the world lost their minds for the new first chapter in a “Star Wars” trilogy.

You And I Are Not The Story, The Fine Line Between Sympathy And Self-Aggrandization

Photo: Telegraph

The world is still reeling from the horrific terrorist attacks in Paris, France that have left over 130 people dead and 350 injured. Like every incident of this sort, it reminds us just how serious the war against radical militants is, even though the fight continues in a part of the world most of us will never see first hand.

At this time I would like to express my sincerest condolences to the families of all those affected by this tragedy; and to France as a nation as they collectively grieve and look toward the future as they work to prevent another attack of any scale from occurring ever again.

Now, regarding the above paragraph, is it something that you really needed to read? Does it matter at all that I, a drop in the endless ocean of Internet bloggers, say I that I mourn in solidarity with the French?

Isn’t that also something that we should all just assume? Since I, like you, am a reasonable person that recognizes the savagery in the slaughtering of innocents and am emotionally capable of feeling and expressing sorrow in the wake of such an event.

9 Classic Rock Radio Staples That Will Never Wear Out

Photo: 8Tracks

Before the onslaught of MP3 players, Pandora, Spotify and other streaming services revolutionized how we listen to music on the go, for many-a-year the FM dial had a monopoly over car speakers.

Well, there is also the CD player. But in my case, growing up as a passenger in my Dad’s Miata, it was rendered irrelevant after Bob Dylan’s “Desire” became permanently stuck in it. It still got spun from time to time.

My old man, like the parents of many millennials, grew up in what they, and Rolling Stone magazine, consider the greatest era for rock music, and practically refuse to acknowledge any record released after 1987 (hair metal onward).

Growing up in Connecticut, the station that we most often turned to was 102.1 – Springfield’s Classic Rock. For about 15 years it was my Dad’s personal favorite and its playlist groomed much of my personal tastes.