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The catch-all for items related to and/or inspired by the music that shaped me. |
Whaddup y'all? Man, it's a beautiful thing when everything works out the way it should...when you're putting something together and all the pieces just snap into place with minimal effort and the end result looks exactly as it's pictured on the box. Today's blog entry, brought to you by Burger King ![]() After seeing today's images, I was fairly set on which one I would use for a poem, and then build a blog entry around it. Things began falling together nicely; I even started making notes in my physical "Also Mutants" ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() So the new poem came. And- surprise!- I hated it. Didn't like the title; didn't think it wound up being right for the piece. Thought the body was too dorky. Maybe too science-y (although some of you much smarter people will be all confused and say it's not science-y enough, and ya got me there). So I took a quick break and tried to reset the image in my mind...and wrote something else I promptly decided was also not good enough. Corny, cheesy, lame, Disney Channel, Junior High feel-good pep rally nonsense. If you're keeping score at home, they're poems #17 and #18..."Some Kind Of Ancient Ruse" ![]() ![]() Disappointed but undeterred, I turned my focus to the alternate picture for today. I thought about ego, and the one residing in a person who maybe was once good or perhaps the best at whatever he or she did a generation or two ago, but has been replaced due to age and cheaper/better labor and technology, and the best that person could do now was to hope to get by on name recognition alone but was struggling. I'd like to think I channeled my minimal anger and disappointment at having struck out twice today into a bit of cynicism and joy at this fictional person's demise ![]() I guess you could say that when I was finished with it, I felt that satisfaction of being done...took a little longer and the instructions weren't all in order and the language wasn't always readable, but it pretty much almost looks like it shows on the package, even if there really wasn't a package to begin with ![]() ![]() ![]() Silver At Sleep What's it feel like to be a post-modern industry, dying? You jumped to one too many conclusions; now you can't fall for standing. These days that many shades of blue will never look good on you unless it's beside the sea of self-pity you've relaxed in after a steady diet of yourself. And I love that you're too proud to say you're stuck when we all know the wheels are turnin' but there's no place to go. You can't just be. You can't let it be. "Silver At Sleep" ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Woulda been far too easy to plug in The Tragically Hip's "Silver Jet" ![]() "Silver" ![]() "Everybody wants...everybody says...everybody begs...in time. You will be the first to fall. Every feeling will dissolve. We are silver." ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Alright all you fine, lovely individuals who've made it this far...it's time for me to move on to other things this evening. I've wasted spent far too much of my day thinking about this entry, and I'm afraid that if I don't quit soon it may consume me the rest of the night...that's not good for anyone, and it inhibits my ability to care about making more of them in the days and weeks to come. Peace, come touch and feel and lick and smell, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |