Author: Kyle A. Massa (Page 1 of 27)

Try My Stew

September 16, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

Not the kind you eat. The kind you read.

Hi reader. Today I’d like to share my newest book with you. It’s called Hecatontagonal Stew, and it’s out now in ebook, paperback, and soon, hardcover. Let me tell you a bit more about it.

The Gimmick

Hecatontagonal Stew is a short story collection. However, it’s unlike most—or perhaps any—you’ve ever read. That’s because it has 100 stories, and each story is exactly 100 words long.

With so many stories, I had the unique opportunity to explore all sorts of genres, styles, approaches, and more. I divided them into 10 parts of 10 stories each. Speaking of which…

The Parts

Are as follows…

Tales & Tails (Fairy tales, Shakespeare, folklore, animals, and more)
Who Are You? (Stories about identity—but sadly, none about The Who)
Consumption (Eating, drinking, buying, etc.)
How Creepy (Horror, but mostly funny horror)
Selective Memory (History, reminiscence, and period pieces)
Please Be Professional, Please (Work stories)
Surreality (Stories based in fact, or at least not fiction)
Sporting (All about sports)
Circles (Anything with a circular narrative)
Crime & Reward (Because sometimes, crime pays off)

Hopefully that gives you a decent idea of what’s floating around in this stew. But why did I even cook it? I’m glad you asked.

The Inspiration

I began writing this book back in 2022—though I didn’t know it yet. I answered an open call for drabbles from a site called Black Ink Fiction. (A drabble is a story that’s exactly 100 words long.) The theme was “snow,” which put me in mind of snow days, which made me wonder what might be the weirdest way to get one.

Easy, I thought. Ragnarok.

That’s basically the Norse version of the Apocalypse, only instead of fire and brimstone, it begins with snow. So, I wrote a 100-word, two-sentence story about Ragnarok beginning in New Jersey, of all places. And Black Ink Fiction liked it enough to publish it.

I planned on including that story in a future fiction collection, along with a few other brief pieces. But once I started writing them, I found I couldn’t stop. And each one came out around 100 words.

It felt like a gimmick. And I can’t resist a good gimmick.

The Gimmick Earns Some Titles

My initial goal was 50 hundred-word stories, so my initial title was 50 x 100. Knowing that wasn’t very catchy, I forged ahead with the more important part—the actual stories.

The initial burst was prolific. I remember writing 20 stories in one day and thinking, This is easy! At this rate, I’ll have this book done by May.

That was in April. Of course, I didn’t. Progress slowed from there, though never entirely. It was satisfying to sit down every day and pump out a few complete stories. At just 100 words each, it didn’t take long.

In fact, by the summer, I decided to double my goal. Why not 100?

That changed the title, too. My book was now called 100 x Hundred, and I’d even mocked up a cover for it.

The Covers

Here it is…

Pretty bland, as you can see, but the joke is, it’s a 100 by 100 grid. Hoping for something a little more flavorful, I brainstormed some new titles:

100 Unblessed Sneezes
100 Splatters of Ink
Hecatontagonal Microseconds

I enjoyed the 100-sided polygon thing, and a stew seemed like an apt metaphor for whatever I was putting together. That meant I needed a new cover…

Yes, I designed this one myself (using elements from Canva, of course). And now it’s here!

Try My Stew

Head on over to the Stew landing page by clicking here. Hope you enjoy it!

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include six books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking cheap coffee.

A Little Better Than Bad: My 2024 New York Giants Season Preview

September 3, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

I tried watching Hard Knocks this year. I really did. But it became too depressing.

Welcome to my annual preview of the upcoming New York Giants football season, where I either grossly over- or underestimate just how competent they’ll be. And so, without further ado…

So Long, Saquon

The Giants’ most significant offseason change is running back Saquon Barkley’s departure. I wish I could call it a prudent cost-cutting maneuver, but when have sports fans ever rooted for prudence and/or cost-cutting?

Seemed more like hubris to me. The Giants didn’t think anyone would pay Saquon, yet someone did—an obnoxious, green, winged sort of someone whose name I will not utter here.

Losing Saquon was like having your best friend move away, only you find out he’s moving to Pennsylvania to join some schoolyard bullies, one of whom goes by the nom de plume “Big Dom,” and now your former best friend and his new bully pals beat the shit out of you twice a year, every year, all because Joe Schoen misread the market. What joy.

The New Guys

The Giants signed Devin “Motor” Singletary to replace Saquon. No offense to Devin, but that’s like replacing a Corvette with a Segway. Furthermore, it puts to the test my longstanding theory that guys with cool nicknames get overrated. Take Marquise “Hollywood” Brown, for instance, who’s posted only a single thousand-yard season in five years, yet now signs with the Super Bowl champs. Maybe if I had a better nickname, I’d be more successful, too. “Big Kyle,” perhaps?

The Giants also traded for Brian Burns and drafted Malik Nabers, which are far more impactful moves. Adding Burns to a defense that features Dexter Lawrence, Kayvon Thibodeaux, and Bobby Okereke gives us a formidable front. If new Defensive Coordinator Shane Bowen is any good, this could be the team’s strength.

As for Nabers, the hype is real. I’ve heard comparisons to Odell, which would be a welcome upgrade over the corpse of Darren Waller and the ghost of Kenny Golladay. Finding quarterback Daniel Jones a legitimate #1 option is long overdue. Which leads to my next topic…

Can We Trust Daniel Jones?

Probably not—though I’ve been wrong about him before. In 2021, I was out on Jones. In ’22, I was back in. In ’23, the Seattle Seahawks sacked him 10 times in one game, so I was, once again, out.

I’m still out. I think. On one hand, Jones plays best when expectations are lowest (see 2022). On the other, he threw three times more interceptions than touchdowns last season. Also, he injured his neck. Also, he tore his ACL. Also, his offensive line hasn’t improved much.

The good news is, we have Tommy DeVito.

Look, I’m Being Serious

Not to be confused with Joe Pesci’s character in Goodfellas, Tommy DeVito is one of the Giants’ reserve quarterbacks. He’s also the only reason I had any fun watching the team last season. I mean, who else has an agent who cosplays as Frank Sinatra?

Still, I feel like I’m on DeVito Island here. He’s third on the depth chart behind Drew Locke, whose only claim to fame is being a slight improvement over Paxton Lynch. Look, DeVito might not be physically gifted, fundamentally sound, or domestically independent, but he’s got heart, baby, heart. Plus, the Giants played best with Tommy at quarterback, winning three straight, including a thrilling victory over the NFC runner-up Green Bay Packers.

Is Tommy DeVito the next Tom Brady? No. Is he Italian? Yes. Stereotypically so. And you know who else was? Rocky Balboa. And was he a champion? Yes, and also a movie star. So, for now at least, you can still find me chilling on DeVito Island.

My Prognostication

I think the Giants will play a smidge better than people anticipate. Yes, a metric smidge. FanDuel set their over/under at six-and-a-half, and I believe they’ll win seven. Maybe eight.

First, their defense looks formidable. Lawrence, Burns, Thibodeaux, and Ojulari should provide a ferocious pass rush upfront, and Jason Pinnock and Deonte Banks should offer solid backup in the secondary. The Giants have also enjoyed great luck with second-round safeties in years past (see Xavier McKinney and Landon Collins), so hopefully this year’s selection, Tyler Nubin, will continue the trend.

Second, I still believe in Brian Daboll. The beginning of last season was hideous, yes, but he salvaged six wins from a year riddled with injuries on both sides of the ball. Plus, they slaughtered those evil Eagles in Week 18, in a game necessary for seeding. Daboll won Coach of the Year for a reason, and I think he’ll remind everyone why this season.

Third, the division is diminished. The Commanders improved, but the Eagles have questions and the Cowboys have even more. Nobody ever wins the NFC East in consecutive seasons, so could this year be New York’s?

No

Like I said, I think they’ll have a slight, though not drastic, improvement. From there, maybe they can add a quarterback who doesn’t pass to his opponents more frequently than his teammates and/or doesn’t still live with his parents.

Until then, I’ll still be watching. Tune in with me on September 8 at 1pm, when the Giants will probably lose to Sam Darnold and the Minnesota Vikings. Can’t wait.

The World Without Vampires

August 16, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

You may love them, you may hate them, but either way, I’m sure you know all about vampires. In today’s edition of “The World Without,” we’ll examine life in their absence. So, in a world without vampires…

…There Would Be Fewer Great Basketball Players

But why is that, Kyle? you must be wondering. What do basketball players and vampires have in common?

Don’t ask me. Ask my mom and sister.

When I was in high school, Mom and Emily watched a series called Moonlight. The premise: A vampire with the unlikely name of Mick St. John works as a private investigator somewhere. (Chicago, maybe? It definitely wasn’t Transylvania.) They didn’t actually like the show—they just thought it was hilariously bad. I agreed.

In one episode, Mick St. John finds himself in a college gymnasium, where he splashes several no-look half-court shots, which he can do because he’s a vampire, I guess.

So. If we’re to believe the vampire mythology of Moonlight, does that mean all our greatest basketball players are, in fact, vampires? It would explain LeBron’s agelessness…

…Transylvania Would Lose A Cultural Calling Card

I wish I could say Transylvania is a land of champion pole vaulters. Maybe it is. However, many people know it best as vampire HQ, thanks to Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I suppose there are worse things your region could be known for, i.e. Sokovia, which is best known for getting wrecked by Ultron.

…Kids Would Be Lousy at Counting

Without vampires, there’s no Count from Sesame Street, and without the Count, kids would count worse than King Arthur in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Yes, there are endless books on that subject, and true, countless other cartoon characters perform the same function. Yet did their laughs inspire the laugh of Jared Leto’s Joker? I think not.

…We’d Lose One of the Greatest Films of All Time

I don’t mean Murnau’s Nosferatu. I don’t mean Universal’s Dracula. I certainly don’t mean Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. I’m talking about Stephen Sommers’s 2004 masterpiece, Van Helsing.

Seriously, I ride for this movie. I’ve already written about it before. Though it was a financial success, Van Helsing was critically panned, and I’ve never understood why. Sure, the accents are bad, the story is implausible, and it pretty much only appeals to 12-year-old boys. Yet if you were 12 when the film premiered (i.e. me), you’d understand.

Dracula serves as the film’s antagonist, and Australian actor Richard Roxburgh plays him with such gleeful camp that the whole movie would collapse without him. I mean, he pronounces the word “laboratory” with all five syllables. The Count would approve!

…Banana Boat Would Sink

Let’s assume, for a moment, that vampires exist. They’re often portrayed as sexy, pale, and allergic to sunlight. If they ever want to walk their dogs, they must venture outside during the day. To do so, they must apply sunscreen, and lots of it.

That’s where Banana Boat comes in. If vampires exist, I bet they’re keeping that Boat afloat, along with numerous other sunscreen brands. They can skip Coppertone, though—that logo is creepy.

…The Nicolas Cage Filmography Would Be Shortened By Two

Which might not matter in the grand scheme of things, since Nic is so prolific (and virtuosic, I might add). Still, you can’t make a vampire movie without vampires, so 1989’s Vampire’s Kiss and 2023’s Renfield would vanish.

I skipped the latter because I heard it was bad, but I watched the former, ironically, for the same reason. Vampire’s Kiss is a bizarre film in which Nic has a one-night stand with a woman he comes to believe is a vampire, giving him vampiric tendencies himself.

It’s one of Cage’s most unhinged performances. In one scene, he sprints down a street, arms rigid at his sides, shouting, “I’m a vampire! I’m a vampire! I’m a vampire!” In another, he bellows the entire alphabet, getting a little more manic with each letter.

Would I recommend this film? No. Am I glad it exists? In the words of Nicolas Cage, “Yeeeeeah!” (I’m sure he said that in one of his movies.)

…Parents Would Be Less Concerned

Because of Twilight. Are you surprised it took me this long to get to it?

Not to be confused with Moonlight, Twilight launched a new wave of vampire obsession. It also turned them into sparkling child predators, but we won’t dwell on that.

I was a teenager at the height of this craze, so I still remember seeing my peers—yes, usually girls—hunched over those bleak black covers. I even watched the movies with some of them, though I always left the theater baffled. If you were immortal, why would you choose to attend high school forever? Why is Edward so controlling and creepy? Why do all the werewolves wear matching jorts?

Alas, I never got answers to these questions. Neither did anyone’s parents, even if they were brave enough to ask. Fortunately, this series seems to have less staying power than say, Harry Potter, so maybe we’ll never need to relive this craze. Though I’m sure they’re due for a reboot…

…The World Would Be Far Less Interesting

Thanks, vampires. You’ve given me something to write about.

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking cheap coffee.

!

June 28, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

I end too many sentences with exclamation marks. I’m aware of this personal flaw, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it.

I know it’s overdone. I know it’s inaccurate. I know Strunk and White would table-top me if they could. And yet, I do it anyway.

Why? Because I don’t want people to think I’m upset.

Perhaps I should specify. My exclamation marks appear almost exclusively in my digital communication. I’m better at excluding them from my prose, mostly because I’m afraid grammarians on Goodreads will slap me with one-star reviews. Yet texts and emails remain breeding grounds for my exclamations.

To prove this observation, I reviewed yesterday’s sent emails from my work address. Ten of my previous 10 messages contained exclamation marks. Worse yet, now that I’ve established this pattern at work, I can’t relent.

For the sake of demonstration, let’s imagine we’re coworkers. Greetings, coworker. Now let’s pretend you’ve requested help from me, and I reply thusly:

All set!

Oh that Kyle, you must be thinking, shaking your head and smiling to yourself. What a chipper fellow.

Try receiving this reply instead:

All set.

Oh no, you’d think to yourself. Is Kyle mad at me? Is everything okay? Did his cat die?

Don’t worry, both cats are very much alive. One of them just puked on the rug. But here you’ve spotted my dilemma: I’ve worked at Special Olympics New York for five years now, and over that time, I’d estimate 96.56% of my emails used an exclamation mark. When you write almost as many exclamations as periods, you’ve got a problem.

And it’s not just me. A few years back, our organization recruited a writing consultant to help improve our written communication. My wife Sara also works at Special Olympics NY, and she was among the select few invited to the seminar. Here’s what she says the consultant said:

“I’ve never encountered an organization that writes with as many exclamation marks as yours!”

His statement probably ended in a period, but I wanted to reinforce his point.

But here’s my rebuttal, writing consultant guy: Periods make texts and emails sound terse. I know they’re grammatically correct. I know they’re proper. Yet when communicating digitally, I can’t ignore the finality of that single dot. Consider this text message:

Okay.

This is how my parents text, and they’re right to do so. The vast majority of sentences should end in periods. But this sentence sounds aggressive, even though I know my parents aren’t aggressive (unless my dad’s talking to the cable company). If that example doesn’t convince you, try this one:

See you soon.

Without an exclamation mark, this sounds like a threat. In my more paranoid moments, I might even receive this text and think, Oh shit! Am I about to be assassinated!?

See? I even think in exclamation marks.

My problem is one of consistency. I’ve often daydreamed about converting to the period, about dropping all my overused exclamation marks from my texts, emails, and thoughts, becoming the diligent grammarian I know I should be. Yet I can’t. Because if I do, people will fear something’s wrong.

What’s with all the sudden periods? they’ll think as they read my emails. Is Kyle going to assassinate me?

The answer is, of course, no (unless you’re an Eagles fan, in which case, maybe). But who would know that by reading an email dominated by periods? I pretty much only use them when I’m annoyed with people and I assume they know I’m annoyed with them. No exclamation marks for you, I think as I pound the period key. Every sentence you get ends in a black hole.

I could add an addendum to my email signature explaining my change, e.g. I’ve realized I overuse exclamation marks in my emails, so you may notice their absence in future messages. This does not reflect my general mood or feelings toward you, unless it does, in which case, you know who you are. But that would make me seem like even more of a psycho than I already am.

Yet still, I’m not alone. Exclamation overuse isn’t just localized to my organization—it’s generational. As a Millennial, ours was the first generation to grow up with text messaging. Without the in-person benefits of tone, expression, and posture, our early text messaging relied on nonsense like colons combined with right-half parentheticals. Or, better yet, exclamation marks. Emojis came later, but even they haven’t killed the vertical-line-and-dot.

Perhaps this suggests that we Millennials are an empathetic generation. We want to assure our recipients that we’re not angry with them, so much so that we end most sentences with an additional press of the “Shift” key. Or, perhaps we’re all part of the problem. I couldn’t say.

But here’s what I could do: I could end this confessional with a vow to write fewer exclamation marks. I know I won’t. Instead, later today, as I sit down at my desk and browse my emails, I’ll reply with the same platitudes I always use. Sounds good! Copy that! Thanks so much! And I’ll think to myself, Well, at least you’re certain I’m not mad at you!

The World Without Kyles

May 20, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

Kyle. It’s a name you might’ve heard before. It also happens to be my name. My parents gave it to me, as it were, and there are many more of us out there. Today, we’re going to celebrate ourselves.

How? By imagining the sad, bleak state of affairs without us. And so, in a world without Kyles…

…There Would Be No Modern Film Adaption of Dune

I’m about to do some hypothetical gymnastics, so watch closely. In 2021, director Denis Villeneuve adapted the classic science-fiction epic Dune into a smash hit. However, it was also adapted less successfully in 1984 by notorious weirdo David Lynch. In that version, guess who played the protagonist? Kyle MacLachlan. That’s right—even in futuristic sci-fi worlds, we need Kyles.

However, without MacLachlan and his largely panned adaptation, which Roger Ebert described as “a real mess,” would a fresh Dune adaptation feel so necessary? I think not.

So thanks, Kyle MacLachlan, for helping to make a crappy movie.

…Batman Would Be Even More Emo Than Usual

It’s hard to say which of the following billionaires is kookier: Bruce Wayne or Elon Musk. Yet only one dresses up like a bat and beats up criminals at night. You guessed right. It’s Elon.

Yes, Batman has issues. And I suspect he’d have even more without his girlfriend.

Who is Batman‘s girlfriend, you ask? Well, following the chronology of the Christopher Nolan films, Batman gets together with Catwoman. I can’t imagine your average cat showing sexual interest in a bat, but that’s not the point. The point is, Catwoman’s real name is Selena Kyle.

Therefore, in a world without Kyles, there would be no Selena, and without Selena, Batman would be even more of a grump.

…I Would Lose a Treasured Friend

Procrastination leads to some of my strangest ideas, so one day while procrastinating at college, I searched Facebook for other people with my name. I friended the first result. His profile picture was himself wearing Joker makeup, which helped.

The other Kyle Massa readily accepted my request, and we’ve had a superficial cyber kinship ever since. It appears he was recently married (to a Kylie, I presume). Congratulations, my fellow Kyle!

…We’d Never Have Race Car Drivers Kyle Bush and Kyle Petty

And I couldn’t care less.

…I Might’ve Achieved More

I’ve been addicted to a great many video games in my life, one of them being Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones for Gameboy Advance. Think of it like chess, except all your pieces are anime characters with unlikely hair colors.

The game features numerous warriors, one of whom being a cavalier named Kyle. I can’t recall any characteristics of Kyle, other than him being named Kyle and having green hair (see my earlier comment). However, since we shared a name, I spent all my time training Kyle to become the greatest knight in the realm.

Without Kyle, I might’ve enjoyed this game less, thereby doing more homework and getting better grades. So thanks a lot, Kyle. You kept me out of Cornell.

…Something Would Happen With South Park, I Suppose

I’m aware there’s a Kyle on South Park. However, I’ve only seen two episodes of this show, so I feel unqualified to comment further. I’ll say this: South Park fans sometimes greet me by exclaiming my name in the Cartman voice. In a world without Kyles, this would never happen.

…We’d Be Down an Important Musician

When researching this article, I came across one Kyle Bruckmann, a San Franciscan oboist. I’ve never heard him play or know anything about him beyond this fact, but the world has few enough oboists as it is.

…Godzilla vs. Kong Would Be Completely Unchanged

Kyle Chandler is an actor, and one of the stars of this film. Allegedly.

See, normally when you pull a lead actor from a movie, it altars the finished product. Try to imagine Star Wars without Harrison Ford. Not so much with Godzilla vs. Kong, a movie so primitively appealing that you could remove Mr. Chandler—along with all the other humans in the cast—and still have a great movie.

I would know. I watched it on a plane, and though I could only hear roughly 67% of the dialogue, I greatly enjoyed the monkey and the lizard walloping each other with skyscrapers. I’ll have to see the sequel.

…Kyle XY Would Never Have Gotten the Green Light

I must be a bad Kyle, because this is another Kyle IP I know nothing about. I just remember seeing ads for it when I was a kid and thinking, Wow. That looks crappy.

Turns out it must’ve been, because it only lasted three seasons. I mean, here’s the Wikipedia description: “Kyle XY is an American science fiction television series…[about] a teenage boy who awakens naked in a forest outside Seattle, Washington, with amnesia and no belly button.” I’ve been to Seattle twice, and neither time did I wake up naked in the woods or misplace my belly button.

Anyhoo, this show never would’ve aired under any other name. Phil XY? Burt XY? Francois XY? They just don’t have the same ring.

…The World Would Lose a Jeopardy! Question

Me: I’ll take “Dual Threats” for two-hundred, Aaron.

Aaron Rodgers: This Canadian was the first person to play both baseball and ice hockey professionally. Kyle?

Me: Who is Andy Kyle?

Aaron Rodgers: Nicely done. I can see you know your Kyles.

Why is Aaron Rodgers still hosting Jeopardy! in my hypothetical? Because he blew out the other achilles.

At any rate, I stumbled across this factoid in my research, and I suspect the only place it would appear is everyone’s favorite gameshow. Somehow, I don’t think it would work for The Masked Singer.

…The World Would Be Far Less Interesting

Treasure all the Kyles in your life. You could’ve lived in a world without them, a world like I just described, and that would’ve been a tragedy.

Every King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard Album, Ranked

April 29, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

Paul Hudson from United Kingdom, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I had to do it eventually.

A Foreward

To prepare for this meaningless exercise, I listened to a lot of Gizzard. That’s pretty much the only prerequisite.

25. Murder of the Universe

All you need to know about this album is that it’s got a track called “Vomit Coffin.” It’s meant to gross you out, as described by Gizzard frontman Stu Mackenzie on the KGLW website:

“…It’s the stupidest and ugliest thing we’ve ever done. I knew this record would be liked by some and loathed by many.”

I can’t bring myself to loathe any of their music, but I still have to rank it last. The Altered Beast suite and “The Lord of Lightning” are cool. The rest is so-so.

24. 12 Bar Bruise

A little gamey. Hints of Willoughby’s Beach, Eyes Like the Sky, and I’m in Your Mind Fuzz scattered throughout. “Elbow” sounds like The Ramones on more cocaine than usual.

23. The Silver Cord

An interesting experiment in electronic music, but it worked better for me on Butterfly 3000 (we’ll get to that one soon).

22. Made in Timeland

I like this album more than most, as evidenced by writer Mike Bringman’s album review for Still Listening Magazine, in which he called it “a silly release.” Not untrue, but I still dig this silly release, especially when Amby raps at the end.

21. Eyes Like the Sky

As spoken-word fake American Western movie soundtracks go, this one starts out strong. “Eyes Like the Sky,” “Year of Our Lord,” “The Raid,” “Drum Run”…these are all songs you could imagine hearing in a John Wayne movie. My only gripe is that the story sort of ends, rather than actually concluding.

20. Float Along – Fill Your Lungs

It’s bookended by two psychedelic masterpieces, but the tracks in between are middling at best, except for “Let Me Mend the Past,” which would’ve been another masterpiece, if not for the weird megaphone effect on Amby’s vocals. It plays far, far better live.

19. L.W.

No, that doesn’t stand for “Little Women.” It’s a little better than I remember it being, but it’s simply not as good as its sister album, K.G. (and no, that doesn’t stand for Kevin Garnett). The link with K.G. might always make it seem worse than it is.

18. Laminated Denim

Took me a few listens to comprehend this one, but it’s a jamming delight. “Hypertension” is a great track, which is probably why they play it live so often.

17. Sketches of Brunswick East

A lot of hipster Gizzard fans rank this album among their best, but I’m baffled by that take. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy this one. It’s their jazziest to date, and Stu’s flute playing here is second only to Paper Mâché Dream Balloon.

Still, I can’t place Sketches any higher than the albums to come, since it’s ultimately more artsy than hooky.

16. Flying Microtonal Banana

It may be number 16 on this list, but Banana might be Gizzard’s number one best-named album ever. The band’s first foray into microtonal tuning is packed with catchy songs, with standouts being “Rattlesnake,” “Anoxia,” and “Nuclear Fusion.” Very tight, very fun, and very high in potassium.

15. Gumboot Soup

This album features some of my favorite cover art. Musically, it’s kind of like a .500 football season: Half wins and half losses. “Greenhouse Heat Death” and “The Last Oasis” feel like filler, but “Muddy Water,” “Down the Sink,” “All is Known,” and “The Wheel” are big-time winners. Also, “The Great Chain of Being” might be the headbangiest entry in their catalog (I believe this is the definitive version).

14. K.G.

Among their microtonal albums, this is probably the strongest. Its songs are interesting at worst and outstanding at best, with many of them being live staples. I’m convinced that “The Hungry Wolf of Fate” is their most underrated song. Here’s petitioning them to play it live when I see them in August.

13. Changes

Tracks two through seven range from decent to good. “Hate Dancin'”? Decent. “Astroturf”? Good. “Gondii”? As my brother-in-law Dan would say, it sounds like Mario Kart. But track number one?

Track one is “Change.” “Change” is so great that it drags the entire record up to the 12 spot. It’s catchy, intricate, dynamic, and well-structured, with moments of brilliance from all six band members. Highly recommend watching the performance sequence from John Angus Stewart’s Sleeping Monster. It’s sick.

Also, this album cover proves my ultimate theory of band photography: For the image to look coolest, one person must always be looking away.

12. Oddments

Stu describes this one as “a rogue pube.” Just thought you should know that.

Besides being a rogue pube, Oddments is also quite odd, in that it’s an amalgam of leftover songs from various other sessions. This creates a delightful mess, which gets most delightful on the dramatic “Work This Time” and the bluesy “It’s Got Old.” I’m trying to learn the latter on harmonica (with middling results).

11. Butterfly 300

Unlike The Silver Cord, this electronic album isn’t entirely electronic. There’s lots of gorgeous acoustic guitar throughout, and it adds to the record’s general sense of euphoria (Stu’s daughter was born while they were recording). All 10 songs are great, but “Shanghai” is the crowning masterpiece.

10. Polygondwanaland

Most Gizzard fans lionize this album. The first four times I listened to it, I didn’t.

The fifth, though. The fifth listen is when all those unusual time signatures and precise guitar licks finally clicked into place. Polygondwanaland is not an album so much as a portal to another world, a world where rhythms fall on unexpected beats. It’s a neat place. You should visit.

9. Fishing for Fishies

I admit to an irrational fondness for this album. I’ve probably got it higher than the average Gizzhead, and I would’ve ranked it even higher if I could justify it. It’s their most accessible recording, one you could flip on at a party and not get yelled at (I’ve tried—it works). It’s also the best exhibition of Ambrose Kenny-Smith’s harmonica playing, which drives pretty much every track. Love it.

8. Quarters!

This is another I might have too high, so allow me to make the case in four points:

“The River” is the band’s most enduring live classic. I mean, hundreds of people will sit on dirty concert venue floors and pretend they’re rowing when this song comes on.
The structure is unique. What other album features four songs that are each exactly 10 minutes and 10 seconds, I ask you?
The ambiance is delightfully retro, making the whole product sound like something recorded in 1968, not 2015.
Aside from “The River,” the other three quarters are better than you might remember. “Infinite Rise” is hypnotic, “God is in the Rhythm” is beautiful, and “Lonely Steel Sheet Flyer” sometimes makes me wonder if it’s actually the best song on the album.

Hope I’ve convinced you.

7. Nonagon Infinity

This album is kinda repetitive. Which is the entire point.

It’s basically one 40-minute song you could play on loop, circularly, infinitely, nonagonly. It’s also the band at their most energetic, with omnipresent crash cymbals, squealing guitars, and cries of “Woo!” aplenty. The energy only lets up on “Mr. Beat,” and even then, that’s one of the catchiest songs on the list.

If you like this album’s opening track, you’re going to love the rest. If you don’t, you must not be a fan of quality.

6. PetroDragonic Apocalypse; or, Dawn of Eternal Night: An Annihilation of Planet Earth and the Beginning of Merciless Damnation

Had to include the full title here because I think it’s outstanding and hilarious (and I’ve given up on limiting my word count). I wrote a full review of this album when it dropped, complete with a digitally created image of the album cover on a throw pillow. If I may, I’d like to quote from that review below:

“Billed as a sequel to their 2019 thrash metal classic Infest the Rat’s Nest, PetroDragonic Apocalypse shares an unexpected lineage with a different Gizzard record: 2022’s Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms and Lava. Ice Death is known for its long orchestrations, and we see them here with Petro, too; only ‘Gila Monster’ runs shorter than five minutes. The rest are lengthier explorations, with ‘Motor Spirit,’ ‘Dragon,’ and ‘Flamethrower’ all approaching double-digits.”

For my full thoughts, I suggest reading the review. For my abridged thoughts, I’ll share them now: This album slaps.

5. I’m In Your Mind Fuzz

Mind Fuzz is their fifth album, but it feels like their first. As the seminal text for what Gizzard became, it’s got all their signature features: Lengthy compositions, fuzzy guitars, wailing harmonica, a dash of flute, and opaque lyrics. It’s an invigorating listen, front to back.

4. Paper Mâché Dream Balloon

I think this album, perhaps more than any others so far, shows the band’s musical range. It’s all acoustic instruments, specifically clarinet, violin, sitar, and, of course, flute. It’s not like they switched personnel between this release and Mind Fuzz or Nonagon—they’re just that versatile.

But it’s not all blissful bucolic wonder. The instrumental textures belie the morbidity of the lyrics, which are pretty much all related to death. This contrast makes a great album somehow even greater.

3. Infest the Rat’s Nest

For a band with such an expansive discography, there are certain turning points you’ll hear in the music. Mind Fuzz was one. Microtonal Banana was another. Infest the Rat’s Nest might be the most significant.

Upon release, this was their heaviest record to date. It might still be. Of course, it didn’t come from nowhere; Nonagon gets pretty crunchy on “Road Train,” and “The Great Chain of Being” from Gumboot previews the vocal style Stu would employ two years later. There’s a reason they play songs from this album at pretty much every show.

Do yourself a favor. Queue this one up. Plug in some earbuds. And, to quote Bob Dylan, play it fucking loud.

2. Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms and Lava

The lack of an Oxford comma offends me, but I’ll let it slide for this album, because it’s a bona fide mega classic.

Coming just three years after their last reinvention, this is yet another one. This is when Gizzard officially became a jam band.

They’d done longer orchestrations before, true. But this time, they’re all long; “Lava” is the shortest at 6:41. Furthermore, the recording process was entirely improvisational. As Stu described in a 2022 interview with Stereogum, “…all we went in with was a tempo, a key signature, and a title. There was nothing else—no riffs, no melodies, nothing like that. We just went in there and picked up instruments and said, ‘Let’s go.’”

“Let’s go” is my exact thought whenever I queue this one up. You’ll get lost in the intricate layers of sound here. The interplay between the three guitars is most obvious, but there’s so much more bubbling underneath. Listen to the flute melodies, the keyboard licks, the astounding drum beats, and you’ll realize that each listen reveals something new.

This is an album you could listen to for the rest of your life and never hear the end of. I plan to do just that.

1. Omnium Gatherum

It’s too long. It’s messy. It’s jumbled. It’s random.

Omnium Gatherum might be all of those things. But it’s also King Gizzard’s greatest achievement.

The band is predicated on shapeshifting, after all. But if it’s changing every few months, how can you ever capture a single satisfactory snapshot? You do it by releasing a double LP with 16 tracks, each exploring a different musical genre or style.

An 18-minute jam, a synth-pop epic, two heavy-metal bangers, a social critique, a Syd Barrett-esque tune, a Santana-esque tune, even a pair of rap songs…you’ll find them all on Omnium Gatherum, plus so much more.

There’s no single record that defines a band as versatile as King Gizzard, but this one comes pretty damn close. That’s why I believe it’s their best.

Thanks For Sticking Around

If you made it this far, you’re either a real diehard or one of my parents. Hope you enjoyed it. Long live the Gizz.

Back to the Past (And Future. And Present.)

April 8, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

I’ve got a new book. Sort of.

In my ongoing effort to resell stuff I’ve already written, I’m releasing a paperback version of my triptych short story collection, Past, Present, Future. It’s not just a triptych anymore, either. It’s a…decarology?

Not sure if that’s the right word, but I’m using it anyway. This is a newly introduced and expanded edition, with 10 entries: Some reprints, some reimaginings, and some originals. All of them are appearing in print for the first time.

Now I’d like to give you a little insight into each of them, starting with…

“Hundredfingers”

Of the three stories that appeared in the original Past, Present, Future., this one has changed the most.

In January, I read Up Jumped the Devil, a biography of blues guitarist Robert Johnson, and I was struck by how reductive his legend has become. As the story goes, Johnson went down to the crossroads to sell his soul to the devil in exchange for guitar prowess. This folk tale is the driving inspiration behind “Hundredfingers.” (Note that Johnny was born the same year Robert died.)

It’s an entertaining yarn, but it’s unfair to the late great Johnson. He wasn’t given that talent—he earned it. And so, with my reimagining of this story, I tried to illustrate that point. I also added more humor, since my original version was far too self-serious.

“Are You Gonna Finish That?”

I find myself continuing to write about my old-world Italian grandparents. This probably won’t be the last time, either, since you still haven’t heard the story about Grandma and the hard-boiled egg. In this essay, I discuss my love of leftovers, and why it probably came from Grandma and Nonno.

“…So Then Ragnarok Came Early, And I Was Like…”

This is a drabble, or a story that’s exactly 100 words in length. I wrote it for an open submission call at Black Ink Fiction, with the theme being “snow.” It’s one of those rare instances where the story emerged pretty much as-is from the get-go.

…Except for New Jersey as the setting. That I added later. It just seems fitting that an apocalypse would start in New Jersey.

“About Cats”

A few months ago, I was reading an anthology about cats (it’s called On Cats). I was profoundly bummed to miss an opportunity to contribute, so I thought I’d just write my own essay on the subject. This is the result.

“Mad Scientist Seeking Intern for Spring Semester”

Aside from some touch-ups on a few of the jokes, this one’s unchanged from its original version. I toyed with the idea of providing a real email address for readers to send their resumes to, but once I saw how much work that would require, I gave up.

“A Sudden Stop on a Late Night Drive”

I’ve made many attempts at poetry, but this might be the only one that really, truly worked.

It sounds like a poem, it looks like a poem, and it tells a coherent story throughout. My writers’ group informed me that this story is quite similar to the film Harry and the Hendersons, which was a bothersome discovery. But rather than alter a work I was quite happy with, I acknowledged the similarity in the poem itself, then took a cheap shot at the movie for good measure.

“Earth’s Next Triple Threat”

This is another reprint based on a prompt, the prompt being that you’ve been abducted by aliens and need to convince them to return you to earth. The protagonist is me, right down to the Magic cards in the closet. You’ll have to read to find out if I made it back home.

“The Best Worst Holiday Gifts”

This is an entry from my blog, and I’m classifying it as “fictional nonfiction” because it feels like some of these products might one day exist (also, Chuck Klosterman once used this designation, and I thought it was cool).

The Covid Home Test Magic 8 Ball is probably my favorite on this list. You’ll have to tell me yours.

“Palm Reader”

This is one of the weirder things I’ve ever written, mostly because I don’t really know what it means or why I wrote it. It just sort of appeared on the page.

It probably has no meaning, though it feels like it might. There could be symbolism hidden inside, but if there is, I’m not privy to it. It is what it is, I suppose, which is to say, it’s an oddity. Or maybe not.

“Keyword”

This is the first and only romance I’ve ever written, though it’s pretty one-sided, since the whole conceit is that the narrator is a search engine. For legal reasons, I can’t tell you which search engine it is, but I can tell you which it’s not. It’s not Bing.

Get Your Copy

You can read the digital version of Past, Present, Future. for free by subscribing to my newsletter. Or, you can purchase a paperback copy from Amazon at this link. Either way, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy it!

My Upcoming Book Schedule

April 1, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

As you may or may not be aware, I recently released a (sort of) new book called Past, Present, Future. I’ve also got another, Remembering the End, arriving later this year. But those aren’t the only books coming to a shelf near you.

Today’s the perfect day to reveal all the books I’m working on. Let the hype-train commence its chugging.

The Woman with the Wine Glass

To capitalize on the trend of book club books about alcoholic shut-ins, I’m writing a twisty mystery about Lilith, an alcoholic shut-in.

One night while staring out the window and guzzling some Barefoot-brand white zinfandel, Lilith witnesses a heinous crime: Her neighbor beating her husband to death using a mini baseball bat from the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame.

But did Lilith truly see what she thinks she saw, or was it a hallucination brought on by her wine-induced stupor? Not sure. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.

Expected release date: ASAP, since this literary fad should go the way of the vampire any day now.

Gerald Barkley Rocks: Kyle’s Version

(Cover originally designed by Nathan Rumsey and here modified by the author.)

Re-releasing a previously released album? That’s a Taylor Swift special. I haven’t dropped an album of my own (yet), so I suppose I’ll settle for my books.

The thing is, my first novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, was already an independent release, meaning there’s no distributor to break free from. So, my plan is to copy and paste my book’s text into a new file, then slap “Kyle’s Version” on the cover and call it a day. Hopefully, my psychotic cult of fans will buy millions of copies so I can continue flying my private jet to the far reaches of the earth.

Expected release date: You’ll find out during the Grammys.

Spon Con: The Book

If you enjoy commercials during podcasts or the #ad hashtag, you’ll love this book. From cover to cover, it’s all product placements.

What for? Whatever you’ll pay me for. I’m opening this one up to advertisers, especially the ones who cold email me with no knowledge of who I am or what I do. I’m aiming for 300 pages, and every page is its own advertisement—the more garish, the better. Get your spot while they last.

Expected release date: April 2025, or whenever I accumulate enough money to buy an Alpha Black Lotus.

So Done with Airports: An Anti-Flyer’s Manifesto

Perhaps the most personal book I’ve ever written, this mad ranting is the perfect distillation of my hatred for the airline industry. I cover everything from security to bag policies to seat size. There’s even a chapter on how best to silently seethe while your seat-neighbor spreads over the armrest like a blob of molasses.

Expected release date: October 2025.

ChristmaTyranny: A Tale of Revolution & Retribution

Deep in the frozen wastes of the North Pole, Boss Santa rules as unquestioned god-king over his subjects. Christmas trees stand as monuments to his splendor, exhausted reindeer haul his chariot across the eternal night sky, and the vicious Gingerbread Mobsters serve as enforcers of his orthodoxy.

Under the sugar-laced thumb of this toy-making empire lies Bupkis, a lowly quality assurance elf who’s so bland and forgettable he must wear a nametag, despite working the same job all his life.

Yet when an underground insurgency force recruits Bupkis to overthrow Boss Santa’s corrupt regime, the elf’s true loyalties are put to the test. Is he really just the company man he appears to be, or is Bupkis deceiving both sides—and perhaps even himself?

One part spy thriller, one part heist adventure, and all parts festive, ChristmaTyranny is the gift that keeps on giving plot twists, right until the bittersweet end. Hailed as “anti-plutocracy ideology meets Elf,” there’s no better book to add to your stocking this holiday season.

Ho ho has gotta go.

Expected release date: Christmas 2025, of course.

Say Nothing & Complain About It Later: A Practical Guide to Passive-Aggression in the Workplace

Most business books offer suggestions on improving one’s corporate image, but instead of zigging, I’m zagging. Mine is all about letting the hate flow through you.

Angered by coworkers always leaving the water cooler empty? Annoyed by the inane chatter happening right outside your cubicle? Distressed by the state of the bathrooms? This book will help turn your simmer into a boil, making you the most passive-aggressive person in the office since Angela Martin. It even comes with a handy supplementary workbook containing future employment suggestions for after you’ve been fired.

Expected release date: Look, I’m working on it, alright? I’ll have an update by EOD.

Ceaseless Hype: A Memoir of My Dog

For those who’ve never met her, my dog Osi is a hyperactive four-year-old English Springer Spaniel who writes under the pen name “Psychopup.” Of course, no one ever believes she’s four, because she acts more like she’s four months. And now, I’m co-authoring a book with her.

It’s a slow process. Every time I try to schedule writing sessions, Osi’s eating, napping, or running wind sprints in the backyard. Plus, like many dogs, she has no fingers, so I’ll be doing all the typing.

Expected release date: Woof. (That’s a direct quote from Osi.)

Get Your Wallets Ready

These books are coming soon to online retailers near you—except ChristmaTyranny. I’ve just received word that Santa is suing me for libel, so that one’s on hold. Maybe I’ll write a book about the proceedings.

P.S. Happy Aprils Fools’ Day.

So Long, Time

March 10, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

A clock ticks on for Daylight Savings Time.

This week’s post is a poem—or rather, a gripe. Maybe a poetic gripe. Whatever it is, it goes like this:

Crankiness. Bleariness. Sadness. Despair.

But Daylight Savings Time doesn’t care.

That is all. Get a nap if you can.

The 7 Types of Karaoke Singers

February 26, 2024 / Kyle A. Massa

The 7 Types of Karaoke Singers

Karaoke is an art form I’m passionate about. Perhaps a bit too passionate.

After all, I’ve already written an essay (published) and a short story (unpublished) on this very subject. It’s the next best thing to actually singing karaoke, which I haven’t done in quite some time. Nonetheless, if I can’t do it, I’ll write about it.

With all that experience, there’s something I’ve noticed about karaoke singers: They come in archetypes. In no particular order, here they are.

No. 1: The Overqualifier

The Overqualifier is often a member of their community a cappella group, a karaoke regular, or both. Whoever they are, they’re way too good to be singing at karaoke, because their talent defeats the entire purpose.

I mean, in what other context are lousy singers not only accepted, but encouraged? Speaking as a C+ singer myself, we’re unwelcome in most places. I’m not even welcome in my own home, sometimes, like when I endlessly repeat lines from King Gizzard’s “The Dripping Tap” and my wife loses patience. Sorry, Sara.

What I’m trying to say is, there’s only one place lousy singers can sing publicly, and it’s karaoke. Talented singers get to sing everywhere else, including outdoor stages, concert halls, and TV shows with critical yet occasionally touchingly supportive British judges.

They’ll select an expert-level song, probably something from Wicked or something by Adele, and they’ll sing it note-for-note. If you’ve ever gotten dirty looks from the average joes in the bar after nailing the high note in Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” you might be the Overqualifier.

No. 2: The Drunk

The Drunk might be talented. They might not be. It’s hard to tell, because all that alcohol is making them sound like Chewbacca.

Still, the Drunk is not without a certain charm (so long as they’re not vomiting). After all, alcohol is an essential add-on to the karaoke experience, like amphetamines at an EDM show. That said, the drunk has a short shelf life. They can be entertaining for a while, but when they start slurring the words to “Wonderwall,” they should probably head out.

If you sing karaoke while drunk, you’re probably the Drunk.

No. 3: The Screen Starer

You know that moment when your cat stares into the corner of the room without blinking, and you look into the same corner, only you don’t see anything, but the cat keeps on staring, and after a while you wonder if a ghost is crouched in the corner staring back, and you whisper, “Loon? What is it? Is someone there?”, and your cat still stares at the corner for another minute or two, and then she finally stops and you realize you peed yourself a little? That’s essentially what happens with the Screen Starer. (The staring part, not the peeing part.)

The Screen Starer is someone who doesn’t sing karaoke often, so they’re a little nervous. They probably know the lyrics, but don’t trust themselves enough to overcome stage fright. As a result, they sing their entire song to the prompter, like a cat staring at a ghost in a corner.

If your contacts pop out because you went three minutes and 26 seconds without blinking because you were staring at the scrolling lyrics to Amy Winehouse’s “Rehab,” you might be the Screen Starer.

No. 4: The Boss

I don’t mean Bruce Springsteen, although a Boss might sing Bruce’s “Jungleland.” The Boss is that person who picks a lengthy rock epic, even when they shouldn’t.

If you would even consider singing any of the following songs at karaoke, you are the Boss:

“Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin
“Free Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd
“The End” by The Doors
The double-digit-minute version of “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift
Any song from a live Phish album

The Boss can be intimidating because they only care about their own satisfaction. They want to sing a song, usually a long one, and they don’t care if you like it or not—you’re gonna hear it, anyway.

No. 5: The Downer

Similar to the Boss, the Downer has a complete inability to read a room. Thus, they select songs like Johnny Cash’s “Hurt” while there’s a bachelorette party going on in the corner.

If anyone’s ever inquired about your wellbeing after your karaoke performance, you might be the Downer.

No. 6: The Gesticulator

The Gesticulator isn’t as talented as the Overqualifier, and they know it. That’s why they gesticulate. They’re relying on theatrics to distract from their voice, which may or may not sound like Moe Szyslak.

The Gesticulator has a difficult balance to manage. Anything too choreographed seems trite, while anything too spontaneous seems chaotic. The best tactics often involve humor, such as doing the River Dance during the bagpipe solo in AC/DC’s “It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll).” Some Gesticulators employ props, such as chairs, martini glasses, or their own removed clothing.

If you’ve ever earned a cheer from a karaoke crowd by doing something other than singing, you’re probably the Gesticulator.

No. 7: The Scott Stapp

Look, anyone who has the gumption to sing Creed at karaoke deserves their own category, which I’ve named after Creed’s singer. Creed is the preeminent example of an unofficial subgenre I call “Douchebag Rock.” It’s basically any artist where their lyrics make you sound like an asshole just by singing them, yet everyone agrees they’re catchy enough to earn a pass. Nickelback and Matchbox Twenty are in there as well.

Truth is, I myself am a Scott Stapp. I hope you haven’t lost respect for me (if you hadn’t already). But have you ever tried singing the chorus to “One Last Breath” without tearing up? It can’t be done, I tell you.

There You Have It

Confession time: In addition to the Scott Stapp, I’m a Gesticulator and a bit of a Screen Starer. Which type of karaoke singer are you?

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.