As alleged, Bill Guan, the Chief Financial Officer of a global newspaper and media company, conspired with others to benefit himself, the media company, and its affiliates by laundering tens of millions of dollars in fraudulently obtained unemployment insurance benefits and other crime proceeds.  When banks raised questions about the funds, Guan allegedly lied repeatedly and falsely claimed that the funds came from legitimate donations to the media company.

Since graduating with a journalism degree nearly 15 years ago, I’ve worked on honing my internal bias detector.

One thing I've come to accept is that there is no such thing as a completely neutral news outlet. Every publication is biased in some way because every media outlet is run by people.

The good media outlets are those that try to set up guardrails to counter the natural biases that reporters may bring into a story.

Those guardrails include things like publishing retractions to erroneous statements, checking the credentials of those who give statements, and avoiding the use of anonymous sources.

The bad media outlets do none of those things. They take up the mantle of the demagogue who constantly claims everything is “fake news”, and they publish anything which corroborates the demagogue's story rather than doing actual journalism work.

I'm not mad at people for getting suckered into reading The Epoch Times. I understand that when your worldview is built up around a narrative, you do whatever you can to validate it. Challenging your core identities is painful¹; it's more comforting to find news that parrots back your beliefs, even if it's wrong.

So while I understand the human instincts at work, I'm furious at those who choose to exploit those instincts.

And of course The Epoch Times attracted the kind of person who would allegedly attempt a $63 million money laundering scheme².

The internet enables all kinds of speech to propagate at incredible speed. We need to all be better about honing our internal bias detectors and find ways to help each other not get suckered in by those who would try to harm us with blatant lies.

At the heart of today’s dysfunction in Congress — the serial ousting of speakers, the perpetual threat of government shutdowns, the inability to address pressing issues like immigration, runaway deficits or climate change — lie three political fantasies. These illusions warp the perceptions, cloud the judgment and misdirect the energies of House and Senate members of both parties. Letting go of them will be the necessary first step to restoring a functioning legislature to a country that desperately needs one.

This felt like a great summary of why we have such dysfunction within our legislative bodies.

What it doesn’t do, unfortunately, is give much of a path towards resolving this dysfunction.

When I started this WeblogPoMo series, I knew I'd eventually need to write about Neutral Milk Hotel.

I kept putting it off because it's always been tough to put into words what this band means to me.

I mentioned in my POTUSA post that we used to go to Duluth every summer as a family.

When you visit a place every year, you start to develop routines and habits. My habit was to stop into the Electric Fetus.

Over the years, I acquired most of my CD collection from the Fetus. Highlights included The Unicorn's Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?, Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism, Ambulance Ltd's 2004 LP, and, of course, In The Aeroplane Over The Sea.

Back in my Rilo Kiley post, I mentioned how much it bothers me to answer the question "what is your favorite band."

If I were honest and not at all self conscious, I would have answered "Neutral Milk Hotel" from roughly eighth grade until my senior year of college.

Let's face it: the band is an odd choice for a favorite, no?

A lot of their songs explore heavy feelings and are, more often than not, pretty depressing. Their most famous album is about Anne Frank. Jeff Mangum's voice is simultaneously soothing and haunting, but unconventional and jarring the first time you hear it.

If this WeblogPoMo challenge has taught me anything, though, it's that it feels so much better to just like the things you like with a full throat. No point in whispering about the things that light you up, right?

When I got my first guitar in high school, the very first song I learned to play was "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea."¹

It's a perfect song for a noob: G, Em, C, and D. Rinse and repeat.

I'd sit and strum those four chords in my basement for hours, belting out the lyrics with my best Jeff Mangum impression.

After figuring out "Aeroplane," I tried my hand at the other songs on the album. "The King of Carrot Flowers, Pt. 1" taught me my first barre chord (F). I even busted out my baritone to learn "The Fool."

Like I said, though, I was pretty guarded about my love for Neutral Milk Hotel growing up. I only shared it with folks who I could talk about deep things with.

I remember sitting in the back seat with my mom on a car ride back from Iowa. She asked me what I was listening to, and I showed her the album cover. She put my headphones in right as the first chord from "Communist Daughter" began.

She liked it up until he started singing about semen staining the mountain tops. 😬

This band got me through some of the hardest moments of my teenage years, and more than twenty years after that Electric Fetus shopping session, I find myself drawn to this album when I need to deal with my hardest crossroads.

Albums come and go from my music collection, but I wonder if I’ll ever be able to let go of this album.

It’s truly my most personally meaningful album.

I saw Jeff Mangum perform live a few years back. He took the stage and tears immediately started welling up in my eyes.

He sits down, politely and awkwardly waves at the crowd, picks up his guitar, and starts belting out “Two Headed Boy Pt. 2”.

His raw, haunting voice filled the music halls, powerfully belting out this beautiful song, sending chills up my spine.

At the end of this deeply moving performance, he casually plops his guitar down on his waist, looks up at the crowd, and says, “Thanks!” with the same gusto I use when I meet someone new at a professional networking event.

It made me laugh so hard.

“How strange it is to be anything at all,” indeed.

And for the record: when I die, nothing would honor me more than if someone sang “Aeroplane” at my grave side.

The story my daughter makes me tell the most is the time I asked Taylor Swift out on a date.

In 2008, my dad’s cousin was a truck driver for the Rascal Flatts tour. He asked if we’d like to go see the show and get some backstage passes.

Country music has never been my go-to genre, but I especially find pop country to be frustratingly formulaic and addresses a range of human experiences I don’t personally identify with.

But who am I to turn down an opportunity to go backstage and see how a major tour moves about the country?

My dad’s cousin took turns bringing my family backstage, and it was my turn just prior to the show starting.

We got to see where the trucks parked and the drivers napped while the show was being set up and torn down. My dad’s cousin’s cab looked particularly roomy and comfortable, not at all what I expected the inside of a 40 foot semi cab to look like.

We got to see the area where the video mixing guys did their thing. I remember being surprised because I know the audio mixing guys sit on the floor in order to get a better feel for how the audio plays in the given arena, but for video, I guess that doesn’t matter as much.

We made our way over to the area that led to the stage. It’s basically a bunch of curtains that make a tunnel. In pro wrestling terms, you might call this “gorilla position”, named after Gorilla Monsoon who you could find perched at that area during a show.

While standing there chatting with my dad’s cousin, a golf cart quickly pulls up, and off jumps Taylor Swift.

In 2008, Taylor was in her “pink sparkly guitar” era. She was amiable and full of energy.

She sees me and asks if I live around here. I say yes.

She asks me if I know who plays hockey in the Xcel Energy Center. I look around at the dozens of Wild logos and reply, “The Wild.”

She asks me if I know who they are playing that night. I happened to know they were playing the Chicago Blackhawks, so I reply, “The Blackhawks.”

She asks me if I know of a good place to grab a bite to eat around here.

I don’t know what came over me, but I decided to take a shot.

I responded: “Cossetta’s is right down the road and they’ve got amazing pizza. I’d be happy to take you there once you’re done with the show, if you’d like!”

She laughs politely, thanks me for my help, and disappears into the curtain tunnel.

She performs her first song and then addresses the crowd:

“Hello Saint Paul! How about those Wild? I hope they crush the Blackhawks tonight! Hey, is anyone gonna hit up Cossetta’s after the show for some pizza?”

I’m still not very interested in “You Belong With Me” and “Love Story”, but the last few years of Taylor’s evolution are compelling to me.

I will throw on Midnights and Folklore when I’m looking for some good background grooves.

The two Taylor songs that I have on my playlist¹ are “Anti-Hero” and “the 1”.

“Anti-Hero” is so absurd that it cracks me up every time.

“The 1” is chock full of solid one-liners that layer on top of a general feeling of malaise. In other words, an accurate encapsulation of my internal dialogue.

I’m not a Swiftie, but I’m in an era where I’m working on countering my natural instinct to dump on any exceptionally popular pop icon without cause.

And while I might enjoy listening to some of Taylor Swift’s discography, I’m glad she shot me down.

She’s not even close to being on the same level as Shannon.

You try listening to this song and not getting a little nostalgic or happy.

I mentioned in a previous post how much I despise picking a favorite of anything.

But this WeblogPoMo journey is forcing me to actually reflect on what it is I enjoy about music.

An interesting consequence is that once I am able to articulate what I like about music, I feel more comfortable in expressing my musical tastes.

So in the spirit of personal growth: I’m gonna go ahead and say that CHVRCHES is my overall favorite band of the past decade.

I own each of their four albums on vinyl, which is noteworthy considering my picky rules when it comes to vinyls.¹

Here’s what I love about each album:

The Bones Of What You Believe

The Bones Of What You Believe brings me right back to 2014, which was an exceptionally remarkable year for me.

I got married that year. Seems remarkable in and of itself that I was able to find someone to love me enough to wanna spend their life with me. It doubly rules that I love her right back.

I stood up in four other weddings that year. The summer was the last one where I saw my high school and college best friends with any sort of regularity.

I went full time with the company I started that year. We signed our first six figure deal and moved into an office. I couldn’t believe we were able to do that, and I can’t believe how proud I was of us for accomplishing that.

I suffered my first anxiety attack that year. My heart hurt so bad, I swore I was having a heart attack. Turned out it was only my fight or flight response kicking in.

I ran a marathon with my fiancée that year. I can’t believe I talked her into doing it. I did believe she could do it, though. She’s tough.

Throughout all of that, I can remember Bones blaring in the background.²

The single song that best represents CHVRCHES to me is the opening song on this album, “The Mother We Share.” I will likely never tire of this song, and someday, I will perform this song on an acoustic guitar at an open mic somewhere.

Every Open Eye

When Every Open Eye came out, I didn't like it as much as Bones. It sounds similar to Bones, but it does depart in a few ways which were hard to accept at first.

Over time, I've come to love many of the songs on the album, and "Clearest Blue" is untouchable when you hear it live.

I've seen CHVRCHES play live twice, and both experiences were incredible. I’ve heard the band described as "arena synth," complete with the kind of booming bass that reverberates deep in your soul.

Hearing the chorus of "Clearest Blue" along with pulsing strobe lights is an etheral experience.

Love Is Dead

Love Is Dead is my end-to-end favorite CHVRCHES album. It kicks off with the nostalgia-inducing "Graffiti" and ends with "Wonderland", a song about someone trapped in a cycle of anxiety and can't get out. The whole album goes hard and I’m frequently gleaning new insights when I pay attention to the lyrics.

“Graffiti” is the CHVRCHES song my kids know best. My daughter and son both sing this song loudly when it comes across shuffle, and my daughter added it to her playlist (which is about the highest honor a dad could achieve).

Screen Violence

Screen Violence, much like Every Open Eye was not my favorite when it was released. I listened to it for a few days on repeat, assuming I would grow to love it.

Sure enough, when I turn to CHVRCHES these days, I find myself drawn to songs like "California", "He Said She Said," and "Asking For A Friend."

This album will forever be tied in my memory to working on the wellness app I worked on during my time at BG. That period was one of significant transition and growth for me, and this album feels like a bit of a transition for the band as well.

Again, I’m very here for it.

If Rilo Kiley was the consistent soundtrack for me from age 16 to 26, I'd say CHVRCHES is the consistent soundtrack for 26 to 36.

Funny enough, Lauren Mayberry recently started a solo career. I hope she finds as much success as Jenny Lewis found when she went solo.³

When I inherited my sister’s 1991 Pontiac 6000 LE, it came with the custom CD deck that she installed after she inherited it from our grandma.

My vanity mirror-mounted CD sleeve contained the 5 or so burned CDs that I would rotate through, as was the style at the time.

Apocalypso was one of them.

This was the record I’d throw on when I needed to wake up before a party.

This was the record I’d throw on when I was making my way back from Edina after an exhausting truck unloading at Best Buy.

This album took me all over the metro area up until the day my car died and I needed a new one.

Related: I saw the Presets open for Cut Copy my sophomore year of college. Rob and I walked in flip flops from my house in the Como neighborhood all the way to the Fine Line in the warehouse district to see them.

That’s a 3 mile trek in one direction.

The show was incredible, but I will never forget how much pain I was in on the walk home.

I’ll also never forget how hard we were laughing about it.

A long time ago, a manager friend of mine wrote a book to collect his years of wisdom. He never published it, which is a shame because it was full of interesting insights. One that I think a lot about today was the question: “How are you paying your team?”

With this question, my manager friend wanted to point out that you can pay people in lots of currencies. Among other things, you can pay them in quality of life, prestige, status, impact, influence, mentorship, power, autonomy, meaning, great teammates, stability and fun. And in fact most people don’t just want to be paid in money — they want to be paid some mixture of these things.

When I was in college, the phrase “it’s all about the perks” became something I ironically said often when people described their jobs.

I’m realizing as I get older just how true that axiom is.

A heads up: this post talks about mental health and suicidal thoughts again.

When you mention suicidal thoughts to your therapist, the first thing they do is work with you to write up a plan.

The plan is a series of steps you can take when you are unable to pull yourself out of a funk.

The steps start out small and accelerate all the way up to “go to the hospital.”

My first small step was to write down movies, TV shows, or songs that make me happy.

The movies and TV shows were easy, but I struggled to think of songs that made me happy.

As I’ve written a lot about this month, most music simply distracts me or serves as a sympathetic friend. It’s not often that songs put a smile on my face.

I started a new playlist in Apple Music called Anxiety Attack Mitigation¹. Over the following few weeks, I added songs that brought a legit smile to my face when I heard them.

Here are the songs on it as of today:

Black Box - Fall into My Love (Radio Edit)

One night, my daughter was eating at the table while I was doing dishes. We were arguing about something unimportant. She was “very mad” at me.

This song comes on shuffle and I begin dancing. I can’t help it with this song, it’s too damn groovy.

I turn around and look over at my daughter. She looks up from her plate with an angry scowl. She sees what I’m doing and her jaw drops like a cartoon character. She gets this look on her face that’s equal parts amused and shocked.

She quickly realizes that she’s supposed to be mad at me, so she quickly covers her mouth and looks away.

Whenever this song comes on, even if I’m “very mad” about something, I can’t help but crack a smile.

Coolio - The Winner

I mentioned this song in my Hit ‘em High writeup, so I’ll make this quick:

This is a song that I’ve heard all my life, but never actually listened to until very recently.

Seriously, read these lyrics.

I’ll admit that I didn’t expect this sort of message from the same guy as Gangsta’s Paradise, but I’m grateful for the wisdom of Coolio.

Des'ree - You Gotta Be

102.9 Lite FM was my second favorite radio station growing up².

I’d fall asleep to that station every night.

The song I most looked forward to hearing was this one.

Even as a fourth grader, this song made me feel good about myself.

As an adult, the song serves as a manifesto for how to keep moving through life.

Sum 41 - Fat Lip

I had this song on my Cybiko.

That’s a big deal because my Cybiko had a 16 megabyte card, which could store a whopping 16 minutes of low quality MP3s.

This song reminds me of middle school. Wanting to rebel but never feeling courageous enough to do it.

I’ve been lucky enough to see them perform it live twice this year³. I used to think pop punk music wasn’t something I was allowed to have as part of my identity, but the past few months have needed a soundtrack to help me make sense of my present situation.

Now, I’m no longer ashamed to admit that I love it.

12 year old Tim would’ve loved to see Sum 41 live. 36 year old Tim is grateful to have had that realization before it was too late.

And every time I hear this song, it reminds me that I need to put on my own oxygen mask before helping others.

Rêve - Still Dancing

I already covered this one.

Hoobastank - Crawling In The Dark

I’m embarrassed to admit I listen to a lot of these songs, and this one is probably the one I’m the most embarrassed about.

Maybe I’m reaching a point in my life where I want to care less about what other people think, and this post serves as exposure therapy.

But I can’t rock out enough to this song when I feel angsty. It helps me feel less alone.

Jimmy Eat World - The Middle

This was another song that was on my Cybiko.

Every time I hear it, I try to place myself into the perspective of either the singer or the girl.

As the singer, someone pops into my head that I feel could use a pat on their back, so I shoot them a text and see how they’re hanging in there.

As the girl, I allow myself to get the pat on the back.

Bluey - I Know a Place (The Creek Song)

The best children’s television show of the past few years is unquestionably Bluey.

The soundtrack to the show is part of the reason why.

Close your eyes when listening to this song and picture the scene being described.

It’s a sure fire way to ground yourself back in reality, to give you a chance to let go of the thing that is causing you so much stress, to make space for thoughts that matter.

Em Beihold - Numb Little Bug

I went out for karaoke a month or so ago and heard someone sing this song that I’d never heard before.

The lyrics match the way I feel when I’m especially down, and listening to her helps me feel less isolated.

Modest Mouse - Float On

Like the Coolio song above, here’s a song that’s been in regular rotation for years, but I hadn’t really listened to the lyrics.

This song is a reminder that life often works out just fine in the end.

Hoku - Perfect Day

You listen to this song and try to not get a dumb grin on your face.

Curtis Mayfield - Move On Up

Yet another song I’ve enjoyed for years without considering the lyrics all that much.

The uplifting lyrics and encouragement to persevere through struggle make this song perfect for this playlist.

It also often gives me perspective for my own struggles. I know there isn’t such a thing as “the suffering Olympics,” but come on, my struggles aren’t much compared to those of an African American in the 70s.

The Linda Lindas - Talking to Myself

I’m seeing Green Day this summer, and the Linda Lindas are one of the opening sets.

Their entire Growing Up album is very good, but this song made it on this playlist because, much like the Numb Little Big song, it often feels like we’re alone when we have depressive thoughts.

I’m super lucky to have friends I can call to talk about the things I think about that I can’t help.

Some of you may even be reading this post! I can’t believe people read this stuff, but again, I’m a very lucky guy. ❤️

I came across this list of various questions for how personal websites reflect social movements these days, and this one got me thinking:

what’s punk online today? what’s the website equivalent of a zine? the photocopy look or the ethic of throw this up fast and cheap?

When I started designing websites in the late 90s, we didn’t have much by way of templates or nice aesthetics to adopt. Everything was looping MIDIs, seven baked-in fonts, and maybe a <marquee> or <blink> tossed in for good measure.

Nowadays, the kids have an incredible amount of templates and tooling available to make websites look really polished and smooth out of the box.

But I guess the point Tracy is trying to make here is that stuff isn’t really punk or counter culture. People expect corporate websites to look polished. Rounded rectangles. Big, bubbly fonts with (shudders) dynamic carousels.

I am feeling the itch to redesign my site again, and I am unsure what direction to take. My personal braaaaand is still being defined, but the elements I can identify off the dome would be inclusive, optimistic, sarcastic, and warm.

Are those elements counter culture these days?