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Instafilk: Really Simple Gifts

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On December 4, 2007

In Blog

This morning on #filkhaven, dank pointed me at a CNN article about Virtual Reality gifts. and the following just popped into my head.

Really Simple Gifts
TTTO: “Simple Gifts”

It’s a gift that is simple
And it’s sure to appeal
And it doesn’t matter if it isn’t real
Just click on the mouse and an icon appears
And you’ll find this passes for Christmas cheer

Buy, buy, whatever you may see
Virtual gifts for your family
Spend all your cash in an online spree
and divorce yourself from reality

Country Response

By

On October 10, 2007

In Blog, Songs

Country Response
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “You Never Even Called Me By My Name” by Steve Goodman and John Prine

Well, it was all I could do to keep from dying
Somehow it seems I’m able to remain
You know I’ve always loved you for your body
Right now I only want you for your brain

You don’t have to call me George Romeo
You don’t have to call me James Gunn
You don’t have to call me Simon Pegg anymore
Even so, I think you’d better run

And I’ll chase you down as long as you run from me
I’ve never minded shamblin’ through the rain
You know I’ve always loved you for your body
Right now I only want you for your brain

Well, I polished off the dog for lunch this morning
So now you will not let me in your bed
I really hoped you wouldn’t notice I had changed
Before I started gnawing on your head.

And I’ll chase you down as long as you run from me
I’ve never minded shamblin’ through the rain
You know I’ve always loved you for your body
Right now I only want you for your brain

(Spoken: My friend Seanan McGuire wrote a song. She said it was the perfect Country & Western song. I said it was NOT the perfect Country and Western Song. It doesn’t mention mama. It doesn’t mention prison. There’s not a single train in it. And she said, “Dude, zombies.” Which is, I admit, a fair point.)

Well ever since I went and got myself infected
Ain’t nothing round this town that’s been the same
And I know I’ve never been the perfect husband
But is it fair to give me all the blame?

And I’ll chase you down as long as you run from me
I’ve never minded shamblin’ through the rain
You know I’ve always loved you for your body
Right now I only want you for your brain

This popped into my head in the shower this morning.

Max Level Newbie

By

On October 6, 2007

In Blog, Songs

Max Level Newbie
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “I Am The Very Model of A Modern Major General” by Gilbert and Sullivan

I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70
I’ve never been on raids, but I insist that I would like to be
I know the kings of Azeroth, but what they drop’s a mystery
From Netherstorm to Shadowmoon, no one has ever heard of me
I’m very uninformed about the way to play my character
And if your toon is female, I will prob’ly grin and hit on her
On every pull at the worst time, I will hit tab and free the sheep
And halfway through the boss fight, i’ll be in a corner fast asleep

I AFK in battlegrounds, thats how I got my purple gear
The stats don’t match my build, but I still like the way that I appear
In short, you see I have no clue and everyone I know agrees
I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70

I’ve been to Ironforge, and yet I do not know the tram exists
I pester folks on general to take me out to Tanaris
Although I’ve never played your class, if we team up it won’t be long
Before I tell you all the things I think that you are doing wrong
Invite me to your group and i’ll insist that you should summon me
Then when you do I’ll ask for food and other things that I might need
Before the pull has been discussed I rush right in to start the fray
But when the fight gets out of hand I am the first to run away

I ninja loot by rolling need on every drop that’s green or blue
And if you haven’t kicked me yet, I’ll do it on the epics too
And so, you see why everyone in Shattrath City laughs at me
I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70

My warriors try tanking with no shield and a two handed sword
My priests will heal you only right up to the point that they get bored
My rouges pickpocket every mob and cause the pull to go awry
My shamans never use their totems even when you ask them why
My warlocks never look to see what’s nearby when they cast a fear
My druids always go to dungeons wearing the same set of gear
My paladins cast random seals and never bring a judgment down
My hunters pets chase random mobs and during fights just run around

I run from PVP but I will gank you when your back is turned
Although I post in forums, I don’t read them so Ive never learned
That while I claim that I’m the greatest player you will ever see
I am the very model of a Warcraft Newbie 70

Several months ago, I finally gave in to the lure of the worlds most popular online RPG and started playing World of Warcraft. (You can find me on The Venture Co server as Pryderi.) For months, I worked my way up to level 70, meeting lots of cool people along the way, and finally, about three weeks ago, I finally reached that exalted summit. One of the interesting things about WoW is that, unlike a lot of games where you hit the level cap and wonder “OK, now what?”, there is a whole complex set of challenges designed especially for the top level characters. So rather than being the end of the journey, max level is a new beginning.

Of course, it’s possible for people to get all the way to max level without ever really learning to play your character effectively, which becomes painfully obvious to the people you end up in groups with during endgame content. I try very hard not to be one of those players, but I got the idea to write a song about the types of players everyone dreads teaming up with. This may not make sense if you don’t play the game, but hopefully the meta-joke at least works outside of context.

I apologize in advance for inflicting yet another parody of this tune on the world, but it fit too perfectly.

Ring of Sedation

By

On September 5, 2007

In Blog, Songs

Ring of Sedation
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “I Wanna Be Sedated” by the Ramones

Twenty-twenty-twenty-four hours to fall
Into a ring of fire
I’m going down, can’t do nothing at all
As the flames go higher

And it’s burning, burning, burning
Love is a firey ring
I have a wild desire
it makes a burning ring
I fell for you like a child
Now I can’t do anything
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!

Ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
Into a ring of fire
Ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
Into a ring of fire
Over on rec.music.filk, David Okamura writes about a website he found with “tinklepop” karoke tracks of popular songs.

> You got off easy, Karen.  I foolishly sampled most of those tunes, so
> tinklepop "Ring of Fire" alternated with "I Want to be Sedated" in the
> back of my mind for the rest of the day.

And this came out…
My mind is a curious place. 🙂

SONG: The Dumb Ones Don’t Live Long

By

On March 14, 2007

In Blog

So earlier today in her journal, cadhla made a statement to the effect of how she even doesn’t pretend to be a dumb blonde, as it doesn’t fit her self-image, and besides which, she said, “The dumb ones die fast.”

And, that got me to thinking. This usually indicates danger.

The Dumb Ones Don’t Live Long
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “Only The Good Die Young” by Billy Joel

Well, hey there, Blondie, don’t make me search
You think you can run faster than I can lurch
Or that you’ll be safe if you hide in a church
I hate to tell you that you’re wrong

Well, they showed you a house and they said stay away
But you couldn’t wait past the end of the day
Now your brains are the center dish on my buffet
You will not outlive this song
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

You might have heard I died and was buried and gone
But I’ve come back and I’m here until dawn
When you see my hand coming up through the lawn
It might be best if you ran along

So come on, now Blondie, leave me a trail
Your attempts to escape are predestined to fail
Sooner or later, I’m bound to prevail
And your flesh will make me strong
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

You had a nice white dress that you shed for no apparent reason
Then you came down the stairs
Mmmmm, In your underwear
Oh, but Blondie you’re a morsel who has just come into season
Your night will just get worse
Once I stop to eat your boyfriend first
Whoa-oh-oh

You might think that the dead would just stay in the ground
But I’ve never been one for just lying around
And you can’t hide long before you are found
You shouldn’t go where you don’t belong
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

Oh, your mama said fast living only leaves you in a poor condition
This isn’t what she meant
But now you’re cornered and your luck is spent
Whoa-oh-oh

Come out come out come out, Blondie don’t make me search
You think you run much faster than I can lurch
Or that you are safe if you hide in a church
I hate to tell you that you’re wrong
You know the dumb ones, they don’t live long

New Song: Outbreak

By

On February 9, 2007

In Blog

Two things to note about this song. First of all, I have no idea what Ben Wakeman is going to think when he finds out we turned his beautiful song into this parody. I hope he’ll forgive us.

Second, this is really all for cadhla. Or all because of her. Or something.

Outbreak
by Rob Wynne and Larissa March
To the tune of: “The Overall Distance” by Ben Wakeman

Thirty miles from Memphis
There’s a wreck on the Interstate
Some folks burn and die,
While the rest reanimate.
They start to shamble towards my car
I think my time is running out
At first I feared they’d want to eat my brain
But now I don’t have any doubt.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a dead woman next to me,
Right outside my Oldsmobile.
Half her body’s gone,
She’s too horrific to be real.
So young to be undead,
But she’s clawing at the door,
I think I could take her out myself,
But here come half a dozen more.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a corpse standing by the on ramp
Gnawing on a dying man
His coat is stained with blood
He’s got a brain clutched in his hand
I could chop him into bits
And at first I think I will,
But his friends are closing in on me
And there’s more of them than I can kill.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a terror I start to feel
I turn and run through open fields
I know the zombies are hot on my trail
And i won’t have a future if I fumble and fail
I’m a man on the run and I don’t know how long my life will last
I must escape the undead
I must escape the undead — run fast!
Run fast!

SONG: Press Gang (Ya Got Trouble)

By

On January 25, 2007

In Blog

As many of you are aware, Market Street Films has been working on a documentary about the filk community. They’ve been absolutely wonderful to work with, very professional, and have become a part of our community. And yet, every time a convention approaches and word leaks out that they’re planning to be there, there’s invariably an outcry from a vocal minority of fans who are absolutely sure the sky will fall.

Now this is not unusual. That same vocal minority has hysterics every time there’s any word of press or publicity at a convention. And while I can understand a certain wariness of the press, given past treatment of fandom in the media from time to time, to hear them talk you’d think that it was a cataclysm occurring in our midst, with dire warnings of what will happen if we allow Those People to come to Our Convention.

But I was thinking, yknow, if they really wanna sell the idea, they need a song. So I wrote one.

Read More

A fitting tribute

By

On January 13, 2007

In Blog

This came out of discussion tonight on #filkhaven. Someone had the genesis of the idea, and I tossed out a couple of lines and bookwyrm_com picked it up and ran with it.

And she did a fine, fine job.

When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Like Dave Alway

Outbreak

By

On January 1, 2007

In Songs

Outbreak
by Robert Wynne and Larissa March
Music: “The Overall Distance” by Ben Wakeman
© 2007

Thirty miles from Memphis
There’s a wreck on the Interstate
Some folks crash and die,
While the rest reanimate.
They start to shamble towards my car
I think my time is running out
At first I feared they’d want to eat my brain
But now I don’t have any doubt.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a dead woman next to me,
Right outside my Oldsmobile.
Half her body’s gone,
She’s too horrific to be real.
So young to be undead,
But she’s clawing at the door,
I think I could take her out myself,
But here come half a dozen more.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a corpse standing by the on ramp
Gnawing on a dying man
His coat is stained with blood
He’s got a brain clutched in his hand
I could chop him into bits
And at first I think I will,
But his friends are closing in on me
And there’s more of them than I can kill.

It’s not the overall death toll,
But all the zombies on the way,
That send you fleeing from your home,
Make you run further every day.

There’s a terror I start to feel
I turn and run through open fields
I know the zombies are hot on my trail
And i won’t have a future if I fumble and fail
I’m a man on the run and I don’t know how long my life will last
I must escape the undead
I must escape the undead — run fast!
Run fast!

Press Gang (Ya Got Trouble)

By

On January 1, 2007

In Songs

Press Gang (Ya Got Trouble)
by Robert Wynne
Music: “Ya Got Trouble” by Meredith Wilson (from The Music Man)
© 2007

Well, either you’re closing your eyes
To a situation you do not wish to acknowledge
Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated
By the presence of a film crew at your convention

Well, Ya got trouble, my friend, right here,
I say, trouble right here at your convention
Why sure I’m a filking fan
Certainly mighty proud I say
I’m always mighty proud to say it.
I consider that the hours I spend
With an axe in my hand are golden.
Help you cultivate rhythm sense
And a cool hand and a keen mind.
D’ya ever take and try to get
A round of applause for yourself
From a three verse parody?
But just as I say,
It takes judgment, brains, and maturity to play
In a chaos circle
I say that any boob kin take
And film a song with a camera
And I call that sloth.
The first big step on the road
To the depths of deg-ra-Day–
I say, first, newspaper men writing features
Then TV reporters!

An’ the next thing ya know,
Your fan is singin’ for money in a video
And list’nin to some big out-a-town jasper
Hearin’ him tell about Creation conventions
Not a wholesome fannish con, no!
But a con where they charge for the autographs!
Like to see some stuck-up filker’boy goin’ on Wife Swap?
Make your blood boil?
Well, I should say.

Now, friends, lemme tell you what I mean.
Ya got one, two, three, four, five, six guitarists in a circle
Guitarists that mark the diff’rence
Between a filkcon and distress
With a capital “D,”
And that rhymes with “P” and that stands for press!

And all weekend your convention fans’ll be frittern away,
I say your good fen’ll be frittern!
Frittern away their circle time, panel time, concerts too!
Get the song on the camera
Never mind gittin’ chairs in a circle
Or the flyers set out or the mics set up
Never mind pourin’ any water
‘Til your filkers are caught with the pitcher empty
On a Saturday night and that’s trouble,
Yes we got lots and lots a’ trouble.
I’m thinkin’ of the fans in the beanie-hats
Button-mail true fen, peekin’ in the filk room window at the mess
Ya Got trouble, folks, right here at your convention
Trouble with a capital “T”
And that rhymes with “P” and that stands for press!

Now, I know all you folks are the right kinda fans
I’m gonna be perfectly frank.
Would ya like to know what kinda conversation goes
On while they’re loafin’ around that camera?
They’re tryin’ out bumpers, tryin’ out slow fades
Tryin’ out SFX like video fiends!
And braggin’ all about
How they’re gonna cover up a tell-tale flub with a punch-in!

One fine night, they leave the filk room
Headin’ for the party on the third floor
Anime fen and Star Trek watchers!
And electronic, shameless music
That’ll grab your fan, your filker
With the arms of a TV media instinct!
Mass-staria!

Friends, the filmer’s lens is the devil’s playground!

Trouble, (oh we got trouble),
Right here at your convention
(Right here at our convention!)
With a capital “T” that rhymes with “P”
And that stands for press,
(That stands for press.)
You’e surely got trouble
(We’ve surely got trouble!)
Right here at your convention!
(Right here!)
Gotta figger out a way
To keep the filkroom pure and a success
(Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble…)

Fans of this convention!
Heed that warning before it’s too late!
Watch for the tell-tale sign of press infiltration
The moment that fan enters the room
Does he rearrange the buttons pinned below his badge?
Is there a pencil impression on his index finger?
A video camera hidden in his backpack?
Is he starting to memorize jokes from hallway conversations?
Are certain words creeping into his vocabulary?
Words like…like ‘quote?”
Ah-ha! And ‘can we get some better lighting?”

Well, if so my friends,
Ya got trouble,
(Oh, we got trouble!)
Right here in at your convention
(Right here at our convention!)
With a capital “T”
And that rhymes with “P”
And that stands for press.
(That stands for press!)
We’ve surely got trouble!
(We’ve surely got trouble!)
Right here at your convention!
(Right here!)
Remember Gafilk, FKO, and all the rest!

Oh, we’ve got trouble.
We’re in terrible, terrible trouble.
Those guys with the cameras takin’ notes are the devil’s guests!
(Devil’s guests!)
Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble!
(Oh yes we got trouble, yes we got big big trouble!)
With a “T”! Gotta rhyme it with “P”!
And that stands for press!!!
(That stands for press!!!)

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