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the latest
waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
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THREE TINY THOUGHTS 1. In some sense I believe that the size of one's data set confers psychic protection, which is a major reason why I read so obsessively. 2. Because it is abstract, music is the most individualizing art form. I generally don't agree with much of the hand-wringing about how "kids these days" are all dumb because of the relentless stream of images on television etc, but I will gently step in this direction: Our generation, raised on rock, needs lyrics as a reference to connect with music, and the lack of lyrics in much of classical music is one reason many see it as a "difficult" form that one has to learn to "appreciate." Modern rock lyrics in particular, with their loose associations (no problem whatsoever to read meaning into Guided By Voices lyrics, for example), seem more immediately accessible to us. If a song's meaning is too tightly fixed, and doesn't apply to your own life at all, you probably won't like it too much. So that seems contradictory, because wordless, nonprogrammatic classical music's "meaning" is not tightly fixed at all, and yet people feel they "can't relate." What was I talking about again? There's not enough oxygen in here. 3. The best things you ever write/paint/draw/compose are spontaneous, nearly fully formed, don't require or even admit much revision, and you can't ever remember how you did that, much less do it again. This was a weekend of much disturbed sleep. Mostly it was disturbed for the usual reasons, like drinking a lot of beer. It was also disturbed by a lot of strangely timed socializing---I went to a Saturday-afternoon party, and there's something about drinking wine and eating cheese at 1 o'clock in the afternoon, in a too-warm room, that will result in a fitful sweaty nap at 5 pm, and then you will be awakened for Round Two of socializing. Everyone (well, not everyone...I didn't see you there) (where were you?) was set to gather at our place for cocktails, and LT even ran out and bought extra tonic and limes and all that good stuff, but once the gathering gathered it transpired that we all really just wanted to drink ice water. Hooray, an ice water party! Whoo we are getting crazy now! We also looked some stuff up in the dictionary, just for an extra wild and crazy time. After dinner some beer and cocktails did make an appearance, which I mention just so you don't think I have entirely lost my touch. Ice Water Party was kind of fun though. I also was plagued by strange dreams all weekend, including one where I was late for my own wedding and I was all gothed out in this long black veil and severe makeup, and it was at a tiny dusty country church, and then a big storm came and everything blew away, and in the dream I became VERY ANGRY and thought, "Wait a fucking minute! This isn't my dream, this is a goddammed Guns and Roses video!" Oooh, I was pissed. (Please allow me to quote: "The music video November Rain is the best music video done by Guns N Roses, because of their use of symbolism throughout the video. Symbolism is used in many music videos, however, the way they go from the wedding banquet to the flowers on the grave is amazing." OH! SYMBOLISM! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO? WELL, THEN OF COURSE IT MUST BE GENIUS.) What other music videos feature weddings besides Billy Idol ("nice day for a/white wedding"), and November Rain? I think I remember Steve Perry getting left at the altar at some point, although I may have made that up. And Madonna dressed up like a bride sometimes but I don't remember any actual matrimonial action. For all their supposed transgressiveness (men in makeup, etc), 1980s music videos were fairly cozy and domestic, with straightforward little narratives that usually ended happily. Or at least that's my view through today's nostalgia-colored glasses. PART OF MY STANDARD MONDAY ENTRY: CRABBING ABOUT THE NFL Words and phrases that should henceforth (henceforth!) be off-limits to NFL television announcers (Kenny Albert! Look at me when I'm talking to you!):
1. Explosive, explode, exploding, any version thereof. I don't want to hear about any more NFL players exploding off the line or their explosive speed or whatever. 2. Athleticism. 3. "That kid can really play football." 4. "They've got to move the ball down the field." (Really? Wow, thanks for letting us know.) 5. Second effort. Even though Kenny Albert deserves a flick to the forehead for being such a tool, I kind of like his partner (on the show...not in any domestic sense that I'm aware of), Tim Green, as an announcer. I like it when he gets all critical, instead of making excuses for crappy football like so many players-turned-announcers do. I thought I was done with that sea cucumber thing, but here's another link. Do you have to go? Do you have to go to restrooms.org? I always feel like I don't do enough. I read online journals of people who are all like "Oh my job is very challenging and creative and I go to school in the evenings and I'm training for a marathon and writing a book and taking on freelance projects and remodeling my 1930s vintage farmhouse and baking homemade cakes for all my wonderful friends." I feel like I struggle just to work full-time and deal with my very minor side projects, like yoga and violin and this silly little web page. Plus try to fit in quality time with LT, the necessary talk-a-thons with my friends, and the really truly necessary "hermit time" (lying around in my pajamas and reading). It could be leftover ex-Catholic guilt or just standard Smartypants guilt, but I always feel like I should be doing more. Last week I left work every single day thinking "I am such a loser, I got nothing done today," which really was not true, and I have started taking a few minutes at the end of the day to look back and count up all the things I did get done. It's PRETTY FUCKING SAD when you have to be your own little cheerleader like this, but if it keeps me from feeling worthless and suicidal in the evenings I will do it. REASONS WHY I HAVE TO CUT THIS SHORT 1. Big piles of manuscripts to read. 2. It's time to floss. 3. Thinking about flightless birds is making me sad. Not penguins, because penguins have fantastic swimming abilities. But kiwis or emus? Does it ever bum them out? Do they look at their wings and think, "Hello? What the hell do I have wings for? I mean, you think 'wings' you think 'fly,' am I wrong?" 4. Monday entries are just placeholders anyway. 5. Blah. ---mimi smartypants has not read anything on this year's Booker shortlist. back/forward |
