by Dave Eggers
M.I.A.'s new album is titled ///Y/, which kind of spells her first name. The record represents a big moment for her, a chance for more breakout singles in addition to the cerebral political stuff that excites the master's degree crowd. And for a rock star who's accustomed to flying United Economy Plus instead of Business, it's also a chance to make serious bank.
Maya is in London visiting her mum when I get the call to roll with her people and listen to the album. A white Escalade stretch limo pulls up with Maya's publicist inside, along with a bottle of jose Cuervo and some low-fat Alpine Lace cheese. (What planet does the music industry still live on?) "This is not M.I.A.-sanctioned," the publicist says, referring to the tacky flashing party lights and overall Jersey Shore feel of the Escalade. And then she pops the disc into the player. As we crawl through the staid streets of midtown Manhattan, Maya's new beats come out as a rebuke to everything around us. The album fronts a bassy, epic quality. It's aggressive when it needs to be ("Born Free"), but a dance track like "XXXO," co-produced by Rusko and Blaqstarr, the Baltimore club DJ, is as pop as you can expect from M.I.A., breezing up the manufactured stupidity of Lady Gaga or Christina Aguilera with that global-funky Maya touch. The fan base's reaction to "XXXO" was swift and predictable. "R u disappointed by MIA's new pop song?" tweeted hipsterrunoff. "Is she trying 2 crossover by sounding like Brit Spears/Rihanna?" Maya doesn't seem concerned. "I just wanted to tell my story," she tells me in a late-night e-mail. "I don't care who's listening."
And make no mistake, Maya has fun recording her music. Her home in L.A. is like an open house for creative refugees from around the world, and her studio sessions are a potluck dinner. Back in November, she updated me on the progress of the new album: "Then I go to Baltimore, and we're just gonna spend a week letting everyone come through the studio, and whoever's got something is gonna get on the album." When Blaqstarr was recording with her in L.A., "he caught a tarantula, and he kept it in the studio and got it really stoned for days," she tells me. "A killa turned, ta ran fuckin' chilllllla."
///Y/ is more polished than Arular or Kala, but it still sounds unfinished in a good way, and there remains a Maya compulsion to go in as many directions as possible. The track "Teqkilla" emphasizes the singer's need for some sticky-sticky-icky-icky weed and a shot of tequila in me, whereas "The Message" tells the listener expecting nothing but a good ass-shaking time that the Google's connected to the government. And then there are songs like "Space," which rock a gentler, more contemplative beat than almost anything she's done. But if there's another "Paper Planes" on this album, it's "Tell Me Why," a Diplo-produced ditty that has probably the most instant catchphrase— Start throwing your hands up like you're mad at the ceiling!—since André 3000 told us to shake it like a Polaroid picture. The accolades will come. Maybe the bank will follow.
"I think this is the happiest I've been for a long time," she tells me over lunch at the Indian place in Silver Lake. What I hear is more mixed. That she's taken the recent collapse of the Tamil forces and the complete victory of the Sri Lankan army personally. That she's having a hard time reconciling her revolutionary politics and comfortable life. She refuses to buy the restaurants pickles, curry paste, and cashews because they come from Sri Lanka. That segues into another of her hard facts: "Fifty percent of the money that the Sri Lankan government makes, it all comes from Victoria's Secret." I'm scribbling down "FACT CHECK: Does 50% of all Sri Lankan gov. revenues really come from Victoria's Secret?" (It does not.)
She is relentless, single-minded, sometimes bordering on the naive. During a televised appearance with Bill Maher, she said, "You have to understand that in Sri Lanka, not a single Sinhalese person has been convicted of a crime for sixty years." A Tamil-American artist I know tells me that Maya "was nervous, clearly, and I know she meant to say that no Sinhalese has been convicted of their role in the pogroms against the Tamils in 1983," but thats an awfully big leap. And the truth is that measured, considered statements, instead of emotion-fueled hyperbole, would have helped her cause.
And in its essence, her cause is just. The Tamils in Sri Lanka have been screwed since the country won its independence in 1948, and the Sinhalese have gone out of their way to make them into second-class citizens. Philip Gourevitch has written that in the 1960s, half the students admitted to medical and engineering schools were Tamils, whereas by the end of the 1970s the figure was closer to 20 percent. As a Soviet Jew, an ethnicity that is as obsessed with higher education as the Tamils, I am aware of just how painful these quotas can be. (They helped to put my family on a plane bound for JFK.) Even the Tamil Tigers' outrageous behavior of recruiting child soldiers cannot excuse the anti-Tamil pogroms and the governments vicious handling of the war. As Aravind Adiga, the Booker Prize-winning author of The White Tiger, wrote about the West's attitude to the conflict since September 11: "The world has issued the Sri Lankan government a blank check in its fight against the [Tigers], and it is time now to tear up that check."
Agreed. But one feels that for Maya the struggle can never end. She knows so much about the world, she has an idiosyncratic vision of it that makes for the most exciting music in decades, but she's so rooted in the past hurts of her biography and the humiliations of her people that the bigger picture sometimes floats out of view. (Deep in her Maya-ness, she don't surrendo.)
And still, at the heart of her personal and political struggles is Arular. As with so many absent fathers, his absence makes him a larger figure than he need be. Maya tells me that he has been working as a mediator with the Sri Lankan government, which to her rings as yet another form of betrayal. "England gave me a free education," she says, "but my grades suffered because I didn't have my dad to help me. I've paid the price. I've had the cause and effect, all that shit. I feel like I don't have anything to do with my dad."
I'm thinking of an image from Maya's childhood: her father, on the run from the authorities, sneaking through the window of their house in Sri Lanka and being introduced to her and her sisters as their uncle. (This was a safety precaution—the children would be regularly questioned by government soldiers about their father's whereabouts.) When you're a child, the world around you terrifying and new, and you're told that your father is your uncle, how much else can ever be real? Where does the political end and the personal begin? If's a question Maya's music has addressed with relentless sadness.
But sometimes with joy. Because this is a childhood memory, too: "I lived on a street, a dead-end street. There were like seven or eight houses, and then you turn the corner and there was another seven, eight houses. But my whole family lived on the street. So it was amazing. I grew up with about a hundred of my cousins, playing hide-and-seek all over the village and the temples."
And then there's her own son: "Today he climbed out of the pen, had to take the door kind of off the hinges and move it aside to get around. And thats amazing, that he's figured it out already—and that he's strong enough to do that."
Best American Commune Names
Humans, like apes and dolphins and bees, are intensely communal. Communal living has always thrived in the United States—Native Americans, settlers at Jamestown, freed slaves in Nicodemus, Mennonites in Pennsylvania. As of 2010, hundreds of communes existed in this country. A few of the most creatively named are recorded here.
Aquarian Concepts (Arizona)
Parnassus Rising (Arizona)
Valley of Light (Arkansas)
Abundant Freek (California)
Brigid Collective (California)
Ecology House Two (California)
Ecovillage Emerging (California)
Humanity Rising (California)
Kidstown (California)
Yesss (California)
Seekers and Settlers (Florida)
Community of Hospitality (Georgia)
Earth Re-Leaf (Hawaii)
Garden O'Vegan (Hawaii)
Skunk Valley Community Farm (Iowa)
Fun Family Farm (Kansas)
Win
dwalker Farm (Kansas)
Spiral Wimmin's Land Trust (Kentucky)
Starseed (Massachusetts)
Joint House (Michigan)
King House (Michigan)
Ruth's House (Michigan)
Skywoods Cosynegal (Michigan)
Camp Sister Spirit Folk (Mississippi)
Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage (Missouri)
Sphere of Light (New Jersey)
Dreaming Lizard (New Mexico)
Adirondack Herbs (New York)
Unknown Truth Fellowship Workers' Atlantis (New York)
Zim Zam Vegan (North Carolina)
Comn Ground, aka Panther Clan (Ohio)
Sharing (Ohio)
Pagan Island Community (Oklahoma)
Cerro Gordo (Oregon)
Wahoo! (Oregon)
Womanshare (Oregon)
Bryn Gweled Homesteads (Pennsylvania)
Father Divine's International Peace Mission Movement (Pennsylvania)
Short Mountain Sanctuary (Tennessee)
Tomorrow's Bread Today (Texas)
Faerie Camp Destiny (Vermont)
Huntington Open Womyn's Land (Vermont)
Abundant Dawn (Virginia)
Kyn Hearth (Virginia)
L.I.F.E. (Virginia)
Pod of Dolphins (Virginia)
Dragon Belly Farm (Washington)
Goodenough (Washington)
Jolly Ranchers (Washington)
Orca Landing (Washington)
Dreamtime Village (Wisconsin)
High Wind Association (Wisconsin)
Best American Ominous Place Names
A town's name alone, as they know in Intercourse, Pennsylvania and Celebration, Florida, can mean tourist money. Even when the name sounds threatening. Residents of Hell, Michigan, for instance, invite visitors to "Come to Hell" where, according to one website, they can buy diplomas from "Damnation University" and/or schedule a wedding reception. The following is a list of various other frighteningly named places. It is not at all exhaustive.
Armada, Michigan
Cut Off, Louisiana
Cut and Shoot, Texas
Battle Creek, Michigan
Battle Creek, Nebraska
Broken Bow, Nebraska
Bugtussle, Oklahoma
Deadhorse, Alaska
Dead Women Crossing, Oklahoma
Deadwood, South Dakota
Dry Prong, Louisiana
Empire, Louisiana
Erie, Pennsylvania
False Pass, Alaska
Gunbarrel, Colorado
Hell, Michigan
Hurtsboro, Alabama
Killbuck, Ohio
Killingly, Connecticut
Last Chance, Idaho
Lead, South Dakota
Lynch, Kentucky
Lynchburg, Virginia
Lynch Heights, Delaware
Meat Camp, North Carolina
Moody, Alabama
Nightmute, Alaska
Ransom, Kansas
Roachtown, Illinois
Rogue River, Oregon
Satans Kingdom, Vermont
Slapout, Oklahoma
Slaughter, Louisiana
Slaughter Beach, Delaware
Slaughterville, Oklahoma
Sour Lake, Texas
Tombstone, Arizona
Whiteville, Tennessee
Best American Call of Duty Handles
Call of Duty is a video game in which the user plays a soldier in World War II. The game,first released in 2003, has begat sequels, comic books, and massive online communities. Customers worldwide have purchased more than fifty million copies of the software, netting retailers somewhere around three billion dollars. What follows is a list of some of the weirdest and most creative screen names used recently.
Toilet_Clogger247
Mr. Bigglesworth
Pvt. Parts
[X-Savior] J.C.
ISHANKBUNNIES
Luke SkyHumper
Someone
Iraqishoethrower
Col.Sanders
Krunk Fu
Cowman
Your mom
Tartar Sauce
Bigfoot Spaceman
Chewbaccas Hero
VIOLENTPEACE
Tubanator
A Baby
Ho Lee Phuc
Best American WiFi Network Names
This land is blanketed by WiFi networks, which allow a person's computer to pick up wireless Internet signal. What follows is an incomplete collection of some of the best-named of these.
BisexualBridalShower (Austin, Texas)
JOINANDDIE (Berkeley)
3men&ababy (Berkeley)
noboysallowed (Berkeley)
happysunshinesmileyay (Berkeley)
rofl_lmao_gtfo (Berkeley)
Youdontlivehere (Berkeley)
Poopenstein (Chicago)
Mercyforanimals2 (Chicago)
Fishpantsmcgee (Chicago)
DrOpDeMkChiCknWngz (Chicago)
3guysandamodem (Chicago)
iHateMyNeighbors (Chicago)
divorce (Chicago)
Houseforimaginaryfriends (Chicago)
Chinbeard (Chicago)
BadChoice (Chicago)
UltraTopSecretNet (Hampton, New Hampshire)
Imcompletelynaked (New York)
dontstalkus (New York)
Turndownyourmusic (New York)
wehaveroaches (New York)
Thisisme,thisisyou (New York)
Iamhidingunderyourbed (New York)
Ethernot (New York)
Bacon Lung Inc. (New York)
TheOuchCube (New York)
Iwouldsharebutuhno (New York)
UnicornCupcakePrincessParty (New York)
MonkeyontheLamb (New York)
Fourdudesinaroom (New York)
WeWon! (New York)
WeWonToo (New York)
ifUstealHelpmePayforitUJerks (New York)
Donny,Please (New York)
Caturday (New York) 2dumbcats (New York)
thedude (New York)
Reciprocate-BringPiestoApt5 (New York)
NOFREEWIFI4U (New York)
GetOffMyCloud (New York)
CIA_Citizen_Monitoring (New York)
iwillhacku (New York)
FBIsurveillancevannumber32 (Richmond, California)
Pleasedontstealmywifi (San Francisco)
Pureevil2 (San Francisco)
Slaughterhouse24 (San Francisco)
AirPizzle (San Francisco)
Icanhearyouhavingsex (Seattle)
Idonthearyouhavingsexatall (Seattle)
WhydidGreedoshootfirst?! (Tampa, Florida)
Best American Best American Categories that Got Cut
Every year, sometime around December, the list of potential front section categories for this anthology balloons to many pages. And every spring it gets whittled down. Here are a few that sounded nice in theory, but just didn't pan out.
Best American Names of Taco Carts in Ann Arbor, Michigan
Best American New Colors
Best American Police Blotter Items for Fort Greene, New York
Best American Sentences on [>] of Books Published in 2010
Best American Pet Obituaries
Best American Apocalypse Theories
Best American Ways to Reduce Your !@#$ Carbon Footprint
Best American Bible Tract
Best American Fundraising Letter
Best American Magazine Quizzes
Best American Stick-Up Notes
Best American Calls to the Illinois Poison Center
Best American Things to Do in Warm Weather
Best American Things to Do in Cold Weather
Best American Things Not to Do
Best American Mark Twain Quotes
FROM The Autobiography of Mark Twain, Volume 1
The Autobiography of Mark Twain, Volume I, published in November 2010 by the University of California Press, is a compilation of letters, stories, speeches, and
writings by (and occasionally about) Mark Twain. Twain's actual autobiography begins on [>], and is a series of dictations given by Twain over three years. Twain asked that the material not be published in full for one hundred years after his death, so that he could speak freely, as if "from the grave." He finished dictating in late 1909 and died less than four months later. Scholar Harriet Elinor Smith and a team of editors assembled the book. It is 73$ pages long. The following is a selection of particularly curious and delightful excerpts from that book.
My plan was simple—to take the absolute facts of my own life & tell them simply & without ornament or flourish, exactly as they occurred, with this difference, that I would turn every courageous action (if I ever performed one) into a cowardly one, & every success into a failure. You can do this, but only in one way; you must banish all idea of an audience—for few men can straitly & squarely confess shameful things to others—you must tell your story to yourself, & to no other; you must not use your own name, for that would keep you from telling shameful things, too.
It was not right to give the cat the Pain-Killer; I realize it now.
The supremest charm in Casanova's Memoires (they are not printed in English) is, that he frankly, flowingly, & felicitously tells the dirtiest & vilest & most contemptible things on himself, without ever suspecting that they are other than things which the reader will admire & applaud.... Rousseau confesses to masturbation, theft, lying, shameful treachery, & attempts made upon his person by Sodomites. But he tells it as a man who is perfectly aware of the shameful nature of these things, whereas your coward & and your Failure should be happy & sweet & unconscious.
All over the world there seems to be a prejudice against the cab driver.
And so hunger began to gnaw while the ship was still burning.
I believe that for months I was pure as the driven snow. After dark.