How Not To Eat: CHOCOVINE

After evaluating the critical acclaim that my last "How Not To Eat" post garnered from nearly four people (in at least TWO different tax brackets!), I decided to attempt to make this a regular feature. After all, it's not as if I've suddenly gone health nut on you -- and, once I reach Britain, I could do a seven-part series on Mushy Peas (which I loathe) and doner kebabs (which I ashamedly love) alone.

Now, who wouldn't want to eat that??

Today's instalment, however, focuses on the wonders of less-than-quality alcoholic beverages. On the whole, I'm very fond of "good" alcohol of all types (and may make a few posts here with some new cocktails/beers I've discovered that would be worth your time), but let's not forget that not only did I spend a long and mostly fruitless period of my life hovering around the college "scene," I also spent a month touring the hostels and pubs and Threshers of the UK, so it's not as if I've never drank a Pabst, or 4-Loko, or Carling, or... 

Well, you get the idea. I'm not going to make it a hobby of drinking crates of shit alcohol and blogging about it, but if I come across something particularly memorable, you can expect that the experience will eventually make its way to this corner of the internets. 

This week's monstrosity occurs after the jump. 

Wait, haven't I seen this before?

Whenever I teach middle schoolers the wonderful art of jazz improvisation, I always start by crushing all their dreams and telling them that there is no conceivable way that anything they do will be regarded by anyone who listens as anything other than derivative crap. Saxophonists, that obnoxious yet innovative group which happens to include me as a member, have this problem in spades. Play lots of notes in key? You are officially a Charlie Parker clone (or a Cannonball Adderley clone, who is essentially a Parker clone with a darker tone and less reliance on "I've Got Rhythm" changes). Don't play so many notes, but are still willingly playing within the chord changes? Then you must have erased everything recorded after 1950 on your iPod - I'm guessing you transcribed a lot of tenor players whose day gigs consisted of getting high/drunk and playing for one of the "big four" big bands (Glenn Miller, Woody Herman, Ellington, Basie, Benny Goodman - wait, that's five. So, "big five," then), unless your tone is so whispy the audience thinks you're using tissue paper instead of a reed, in which case you might as well be Stan Getz. Play lots of notes, but aren't so keen on playing the changes as they were intended on being played? Generic saxophonist, meet John Coltrane. Sporadic notes, no changes? Ornette Coleman. Going for your own sound? You will inevitably be compared to any one of a dozen saxophonists gigging today, who were in turn directly influenced by one or more of the preceding groups. Everything's already been done before, which is sad considering that jazz has reached this conclusion barely 100 years after its inception. And some 12 year old who discovered the joys of a 12-bar blues three weeks ago is supposed to turn the heads of the editors of Downbeat? Pssshhh.