... Just watching this great documentary on the highly-underrated TCM...
Let The Good Times roll is a documentary about the Rock-n-Roll movement in the 1950s. It was made in 1973, One of the earliest rock docs there is. At least of its kind. It is preceded by films like Lonely Boy and Don't Look Back (one of my favourite films around)
But this documentary is not Cinema Verite, as the others are. Pennebaker and Koenig were chronicling a revolution, a celebrity with their cameras. They determined the film by being present at the moment the images were captured.
Let The Good Times Roll is great because itstitches together live concert footage of a 1973 Rock Revival concert tour with news footage, educational reels, photos and clips from the era in which the bands were most popular. The acts range from Chuck Berry, Little Richard, The Shirelles to Bo Diddley... everyone who began the revolution of rock and roll. And it speaks, FROM the 1970s ABOUT the 1950s by reaching back in time and creating a picture of a certain era using the cultural products created at the time. The films message has to be defined entirely through curation and editing.
And watching this film in 2010 adds so much perspective to that type of act of creation. It forces the viewer to become aware of its structure. The construction of the film, the choice of photos, the images from the present (in 1973) laid next to the pieces of the past show just as much about 1973 as it does about 1956. the message the filmmakers seem to be trying to send to Americans living through Vietnam, the Bicentennial and musical revolution in a post-Woodstock america seem to be that this future was inevitable, but that hope was to be found in rebellion.
The film seems to say that this "Wild and crazy hippie movement" was not so unexpected. The seeds of a life of love and passion, music and Life with a capital L, had been sewn over 20 years earlier. When those who passed laws, sent boys overseas and silenced protests were still young, just screaming mobs of high school students doing the Twist.
watch it....
Showing posts with label time and space. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time and space. Show all posts
Friday, July 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
... Future with a capital F....
Once again, William Gibson has found the words.
From his blog (bolding is my own, to stress my favourite bits):
"The Future, capital-F, be it crystalline city on the hill or radioactive post-nuclear wasteland, is gone. Ahead of us, there is merely…more stuff. Events. Some tending to the crystalline, some to the wasteland-y. Stuff: the mixed bag of the quotidian.
Please don’t mistake this for one of those “after us, the deluge” moments on my part. I’ve always found those appalling, and most particularly when uttered by aging futurists, who of all people should know better. This newfound state of No Future is, in my opinion, a very good thing. It indicates a kind of maturity, an understanding that every future is someone else’s past, every present someone else’s future. Upon arriving in the capital-F Future, we discover it, invariably, to be the lower-case now."
From his blog (bolding is my own, to stress my favourite bits):
"The Future, capital-F, be it crystalline city on the hill or radioactive post-nuclear wasteland, is gone. Ahead of us, there is merely…more stuff. Events. Some tending to the crystalline, some to the wasteland-y. Stuff: the mixed bag of the quotidian.
Please don’t mistake this for one of those “after us, the deluge” moments on my part. I’ve always found those appalling, and most particularly when uttered by aging futurists, who of all people should know better. This newfound state of No Future is, in my opinion, a very good thing. It indicates a kind of maturity, an understanding that every future is someone else’s past, every present someone else’s future. Upon arriving in the capital-F Future, we discover it, invariably, to be the lower-case now."
Sunday, April 4, 2010
... a lesson in radio...
in my last semester of university i took an independent study course in radio editing. i did it with a friend, and we had a professor, Brian Morel. brian was a tenured professor without a track. the university had slowly cut off his courses as they transitioned from a hands-on to a theoretical approach to Cultural Studies, an already quirky and tiny faculty in a school putting its dollars into Scientific Research.
Brian was the crazy uncle left to quietly amuse himself. officially, he was responsible for the summer arts programme and tiny symposiums hosted by the department. but mostly he just hung around the cultural studies building, acting as unofficial caretaker, affable host and occasional mentor to the wackiest of grad students. The buiilding itself was a saggy townhome that teetered precariously on the steepest part of Peel Street. There was a screening room on the first floor (the only part of the building still used for any form of actual teaching), a few offices on the second floor for associate proffesors not valued enough for a space on the campus proper, and on the third was Brians lair. his office, playground and kingdom.
this is where i took perhaps the most applicable and useless course of my post-secondary education.
For the sake of clarity i would like to say upfront that i have never used the fine skill of splicing tape i learned on that third floor... and the lessons on delivery certainly didnt help me out during my audition as an audio book narrator for the CNIB. but Brian taught me how to enjoy yourself in a professional situation that is... shall we say, less than a balls-out marathon of tasks and deadlines.
Brian knew that two young graduates of a cultural theory degree in the new millenium had little need for the skills he excelled in. the antiquated processes of the CBC in the 70s, the reel to reel editing and radio documentary. but those lessons were a background to our true education. Above all else Brian stressed finding fun and lightheartedness in your daily work, curiousity and passionate engagement with whatever the task at hand.
one day my friend and i found ourselves literally pawing through a box of dress up clothes, making fun on the third floor, to fill time and engage in the play of radio drama. i learned the number one rule of interviews - to ask the next question, always ask - during long afternoon talks with him in his office, learning about his crazy life, seeing his photographs, listening to gossip about other professors.
i use those skills all the time, every day. ask any graduate with an arts degree. no one cares what you know or think about McLuhan. and the ability to reason your way through the most difficult of subjective hypotheses in 50 pages apperently does not prove that you can run the department. things become cliche because they are so often thecase, you simply must pay your dues. as a result you will spend a lot of years with tasks too simple and a lot of time on your hands. This is a simple fact, but not necessarily to your detriment, as brian was to teach us. reaching the other end of the spectrum, he was in his twilight years, constantly beating back his retirement in perhaps the one job that cant make him go away. he loved working, no matter how ridiculous he looked to the rest of us. and he taught me how to love my work, no matter what it happens to be.
he taught me that the best thing you can do is be curious.... about your job, your company, the processes and people involved in what you do. you need to make a life for yourself in your job. not make a job your life mind you, but the exact opposite.
Learn, whatever you can.... and care about what that means. make sure you have a few laughs, enjoy what you are doing every day. even if it wastes a little time and indulges the most childish of impulses. as long as you are engaged and aware of your function - your responsibilities, the fun can come in the spaces where there is room for it.
you probably don't think this was a skill that could be applied, or at least, not a learned skill. but Brian taught me about finding your niche in the world, a world that doesnt always make room for you to shine in all your capable glory. He was waiting for his moment, and finding value in the time he had and the space it afforded him to indulge his curiousity, his need to learn about and experience life. the opportunity it afforded him to stretch himself, to enjoy himself while remaining responsible and finding worth in the work he did do, the few places where he retained his value to the bureaucratic machine that ran the University.
he was dead serious about his work, but he also loved his life.
Brian was the crazy uncle left to quietly amuse himself. officially, he was responsible for the summer arts programme and tiny symposiums hosted by the department. but mostly he just hung around the cultural studies building, acting as unofficial caretaker, affable host and occasional mentor to the wackiest of grad students. The buiilding itself was a saggy townhome that teetered precariously on the steepest part of Peel Street. There was a screening room on the first floor (the only part of the building still used for any form of actual teaching), a few offices on the second floor for associate proffesors not valued enough for a space on the campus proper, and on the third was Brians lair. his office, playground and kingdom.this is where i took perhaps the most applicable and useless course of my post-secondary education.
For the sake of clarity i would like to say upfront that i have never used the fine skill of splicing tape i learned on that third floor... and the lessons on delivery certainly didnt help me out during my audition as an audio book narrator for the CNIB. but Brian taught me how to enjoy yourself in a professional situation that is... shall we say, less than a balls-out marathon of tasks and deadlines.
Brian knew that two young graduates of a cultural theory degree in the new millenium had little need for the skills he excelled in. the antiquated processes of the CBC in the 70s, the reel to reel editing and radio documentary. but those lessons were a background to our true education. Above all else Brian stressed finding fun and lightheartedness in your daily work, curiousity and passionate engagement with whatever the task at hand.
one day my friend and i found ourselves literally pawing through a box of dress up clothes, making fun on the third floor, to fill time and engage in the play of radio drama. i learned the number one rule of interviews - to ask the next question, always ask - during long afternoon talks with him in his office, learning about his crazy life, seeing his photographs, listening to gossip about other professors.
i use those skills all the time, every day. ask any graduate with an arts degree. no one cares what you know or think about McLuhan. and the ability to reason your way through the most difficult of subjective hypotheses in 50 pages apperently does not prove that you can run the department. things become cliche because they are so often thecase, you simply must pay your dues. as a result you will spend a lot of years with tasks too simple and a lot of time on your hands. This is a simple fact, but not necessarily to your detriment, as brian was to teach us. reaching the other end of the spectrum, he was in his twilight years, constantly beating back his retirement in perhaps the one job that cant make him go away. he loved working, no matter how ridiculous he looked to the rest of us. and he taught me how to love my work, no matter what it happens to be.
he taught me that the best thing you can do is be curious.... about your job, your company, the processes and people involved in what you do. you need to make a life for yourself in your job. not make a job your life mind you, but the exact opposite.
Learn, whatever you can.... and care about what that means. make sure you have a few laughs, enjoy what you are doing every day. even if it wastes a little time and indulges the most childish of impulses. as long as you are engaged and aware of your function - your responsibilities, the fun can come in the spaces where there is room for it.
you probably don't think this was a skill that could be applied, or at least, not a learned skill. but Brian taught me about finding your niche in the world, a world that doesnt always make room for you to shine in all your capable glory. He was waiting for his moment, and finding value in the time he had and the space it afforded him to indulge his curiousity, his need to learn about and experience life. the opportunity it afforded him to stretch himself, to enjoy himself while remaining responsible and finding worth in the work he did do, the few places where he retained his value to the bureaucratic machine that ran the University.
he was dead serious about his work, but he also loved his life.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
... Number9Dream...
Its funny... whenever i think about what i would do if i ever won the lottery - and chances are slim, i don't buy tickets - I don't think about the usual things first... oh no... no car, or dream vacation or triple a hockey team fill my head... i have always always always started with this fantasy...
From page 210 - Number9Dream by David Mitchell:
"I assume my tour is complete, but notice a slatted cupboard door at the end of the landing. Its knob twizzles uselessly, but it swings open anyway. Its shelves are not shelves, but steep stairs. A knotted rope hangs down to help you haul yourself up. On the third step my head hits the ceiling, which shifts. I push, and a crack of daylight opens as the plyboard trapdoor swings up. I was way wrong. This is better than a hiding place. I emerge into a library/study with the highest book population density i have ever come across. book walls, book towers, book avenues, book side streets. book spillages, book rubble. paperback books, hardback books, atlases, manuals, almanacs. nine lifetimes of books. enough books to build an igloo to hide in. the room is sentient with books. mirrors double and cube the books. A Great Wall of China quantity of books. Enough books to make me wonder if i am a book too. Light comes in through a triangular window. A sort of wickerwork light shade hangs down. Apart from the bookcases and sagging shelves the only item of furniture is an old-fashioned writing bureau with square holes to lose papers and bills in. My grandmother had the same sort. Still does I guess. On the writing bureau are two piles of paper - one white and blank as starched shirts, the other a manuscript laid in a special lacquer tray."
***********
On my FB profile I say that a book becomes one of my favourites when reading it feels like remembering rather than discovering... reading this was exactly what i meant by that... someone else found the words to describe something from my wildest imagination.
good book, worth a read...
You will like this book if you liked: Lost in Translation (sofia coppola); Ransom (jay mcinerney); anything by william gibson; pizzicato five
From page 210 - Number9Dream by David Mitchell:
"I assume my tour is complete, but notice a slatted cupboard door at the end of the landing. Its knob twizzles uselessly, but it swings open anyway. Its shelves are not shelves, but steep stairs. A knotted rope hangs down to help you haul yourself up. On the third step my head hits the ceiling, which shifts. I push, and a crack of daylight opens as the plyboard trapdoor swings up. I was way wrong. This is better than a hiding place. I emerge into a library/study with the highest book population density i have ever come across. book walls, book towers, book avenues, book side streets. book spillages, book rubble. paperback books, hardback books, atlases, manuals, almanacs. nine lifetimes of books. enough books to build an igloo to hide in. the room is sentient with books. mirrors double and cube the books. A Great Wall of China quantity of books. Enough books to make me wonder if i am a book too. Light comes in through a triangular window. A sort of wickerwork light shade hangs down. Apart from the bookcases and sagging shelves the only item of furniture is an old-fashioned writing bureau with square holes to lose papers and bills in. My grandmother had the same sort. Still does I guess. On the writing bureau are two piles of paper - one white and blank as starched shirts, the other a manuscript laid in a special lacquer tray."
***********
On my FB profile I say that a book becomes one of my favourites when reading it feels like remembering rather than discovering... reading this was exactly what i meant by that... someone else found the words to describe something from my wildest imagination.
good book, worth a read...
You will like this book if you liked: Lost in Translation (sofia coppola); Ransom (jay mcinerney); anything by william gibson; pizzicato five
Friday, April 17, 2009
.... Lennon LIVE(s)....
... Of course the legendary spirit of John Lennon, as well as his contribution to music, political and cultural history will never be forgotten.
And lately it has been hard for me to avoid... My new landlord is a Beatlemaniac.... The common area of my new house is covered with Beatles original tour posters in Italian and framed photos of John Lennon. When he told my postal code... it went like this.... McCartney 6 Harrison, 2 Yoko 8.... Its awesome... I can never remember my postal code... now I can't forget it.
And on April 23 there will be one more item to add to the collection. Shout Factory will be releasing a DVD of the concert John Lennon gave with the Plastic Ono Band in 1969.
For Those of you who don't know about the Plastic Ono band, you should start by reading the wikipedia entry. Basically, you know they say Yoko Ono broke up the Beatles... it was basically through the Plastic Ono Band that this was accomplished.
The "band" was formed PBB (Pre Beatles Break-up) to refer to the artists that would collaborate with John Lennon and Yoko Ono on their various musical endeavours. With names like Eric Clapton, Alan White, Klaus Voorman and so many more (including two of the beatles Geaorge and Ringo). And with the musical buffet set before him... the fate of the "rigid" structure imposed by the Beatles was sealed....
Anyway, in 1969, at the very last moment John, Yoko, Clapton, Voorman and White jumped a plane to Toronto to take part in the Toronto Rock'n'Roll Revival, a concert Rolling Stone has called only second in importance to woodstock....
And it all happened at Varsity Arena!!! Let me assure you, the coolest thing I have ever been to at Varsity Arena is a Club Monaco Sample Sale... and it wasn't that great.....
I am gonna have to start to do some digging around about this event... because it combines so many of my favourite things: pop culture, celebrity, music, the 60s and Toronto!
I am definitely gonna start by pre-ordering the Shout Factory DVD and giving it a watch next week.....
Monday, July 23, 2007
...infinite jest....
... have you ever read this?....
...I have a theory no one ever has... i think it's in one of my notes, somewhere a while back....
...Myself, I have tried it at least a dozen times, make that a baker's dozen... i think it's great, but i always take too long a break before coming back to the middle of it and feel the need to start again... i simply cannot accept that i am SUPPOSED to be that confused....
I did, however, collect, in my experience with this book, that THIS aspect of it was a negative thing....
...do you really want to live in a world that David Foster Wallace's sick imagination created.... especially if no one has read to the end to findd out how it all ends?
...I have a theory no one ever has... i think it's in one of my notes, somewhere a while back....
...Myself, I have tried it at least a dozen times, make that a baker's dozen... i think it's great, but i always take too long a break before coming back to the middle of it and feel the need to start again... i simply cannot accept that i am SUPPOSED to be that confused....
I did, however, collect, in my experience with this book, that THIS aspect of it was a negative thing....
...do you really want to live in a world that David Foster Wallace's sick imagination created.... especially if no one has read to the end to findd out how it all ends?
Thursday, July 19, 2007
...virtual//reality....
NowNow Gallery has been created as a simple and accessible platform for the presentation of photography both Australian and International.
The online gallery, based out of Australia aims to give exposure to contemporary photographers who are committed to documenting the way they live. As these photographers' galleries evolve, it will inevitably become kaleidoscopic. At the very least, giving an alternative view of what we know. And at best, giving us a whole new way of looking.
The site is pretty incredible in general And the blog is superfun
But right now I am totally obsessed with a series of entries that they entitled desktop//desktop. The entries asked each photographer who contributes to the gallery to send a screengrab of their computer desktop, that appears on their monitor, and also to send a photo of the desk the computer is on so that we can see what the actual "desk top" is like.... I love it we are virtually ale to consume the actual reality as well as the now (twice) removed virtual reality of a human we have never even met (or heard of in most cases).... It's more intense than the Hills or Big Brother, and best not to think to hard about....
i will post mine once i remember to bring my camera to work... but here's the screen shot for now:
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
... RIP Honest Ed....
...The man who brought us the largest and most economical eyesore, at the corner of Bathurst and Bloor has left us today....
Ed Mirvish was an entrepreneur, a cultural enthusiast, a family man and a philanthroper....
A big Man with a big smile... a piece of toronto's history... he will be missed
Ed Mirvish was an entrepreneur, a cultural enthusiast, a family man and a philanthroper....
A big Man with a big smile... a piece of toronto's history... he will be missed
Thursday, June 7, 2007
...do you ever just wanna bust shit up?....
....Martin Klimas does.... but when he does it, it's art.....
....His new exhibition, entitled "Temporary Statues" is up at the Foley Gallery in NYC. Basically. Klimas throws stuff at the ground, and photographs it at the point of impact. Creating images of statues that will only ever exist in the moment they are created.....
It got me to thinking.... art is supposed to be representative of experience, emotion, externalizing the essence of the human drama... right?I think that's what makes these successful... like the need to throw something, create that kind of chos.. fragments splintering off, it is sort of the externalization of what's going on with you... well, with me, I guess.... the need to break something is sort of like the explosion, the fragmentation of everything... that's what frustration is... everything going a million different ways... it'll get cleaned up, sorted out... but just for a second - brain, heart, patience - they go in a kabillion different directions.
Anyway.... enough of what i think, because whether what I just said is so much bullshit, or whether you're kinda pickin' up what I'm laying down... you have to admit, these pictures are fucking cool..... On the other hand, if you're into the whole "what others think" thing you can check out the Foley Gallery Blog... it's pretty cool... no entry on Klimas yet... but I am sure one is to come forthwith....
Klimas, a German photographer, who is succesful commercially, as well as in the arts community, does a lot of capturing "moments in time". By definition, all still photography is but a fleeting frame... but his workdraws attention to this fact... it's meaning exists purely on the surface... without any message exhibit the self-awareness of it's fragility, its uniqueness....
It kinda reminds of that Pleix video Birds:Vitalic. Its so random... and defends itself from analysis by having no meaning beyond its own image...
If you try and read into it you will become so frustrated you just may need to bust shit up.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
...so it goes....
... these were the words uttered by author/narrator Kurt Vonnegut in slaughterhouse five, every time a character would die....
... and now, it is time to use the words for the prolific man himself....
Kurt Vonnegut passed yesterday, after falling almost two weeks ago in his home in
NYC, which caused irreversible brain injuries. A legend, a genius, a writer and 'just a guy'.
...he will be missed by all who knew him, if only through his words (which may be deeper than you most people you actually know)
... I unearthed this quote from an interview done with Vonnegut a while back, it perfectly sums up the man, his sombre nature, his twisted humour, and his light approach to the worlds heaviest issues. I will close my post with it:
"I'm embarrassed to have lived this long. It's in terrible taste (laughs). You know I had a fire several years ago, and it would have been so shapely if I'd died in the fire. But here I am, and of course I'm suing the cigarette company because on the package they promised to kill me, and here I am."
-Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007)
... and now, it is time to use the words for the prolific man himself....
Kurt Vonnegut passed yesterday, after falling almost two weeks ago in his home in
NYC, which caused irreversible brain injuries. A legend, a genius, a writer and 'just a guy'.
...he will be missed by all who knew him, if only through his words (which may be deeper than you most people you actually know)
... I unearthed this quote from an interview done with Vonnegut a while back, it perfectly sums up the man, his sombre nature, his twisted humour, and his light approach to the worlds heaviest issues. I will close my post with it:
"I'm embarrassed to have lived this long. It's in terrible taste (laughs). You know I had a fire several years ago, and it would have been so shapely if I'd died in the fire. But here I am, and of course I'm suing the cigarette company because on the package they promised to kill me, and here I am."
-Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007)
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
...there's something about chewie....
..... My cousin Bailey is almost 2years old..... and she is just about the cutest thing ever.... Well, at least as cute as every other really girly cute kid out there in a green tweed jumper and matching bloomers... and last night we was chillin'.... at my passover seder.... at my aunt and uncles house....
.... and this place is surreal... it has the EXACT same furnishings, workout machines, televisions, and toys that have been there since I was Bailey's age... and thus I can assure you guys that Bay was having the exact same experience that I did over twenty years ago.... and it is because of this that I can extol the universal appeal of Chewbacca for girls.....
.... My cousin is not familiar with Star Wars... the original or the new craptastic films of George Lucas' creation.... however, when she stumbles upon the Chewbacca action figure (original, 1979, movin arms and legs, vintage.... suh-weet, let me just mention) she was INSTANTLY in love with his hairy self......
.....GIRLS LOVE CHEWIE..... I think it is because he resembles a teddy bear wearing a fur coat.... and the love only grows after they hear the snorting, groaning lowing noises of Shyriiwook that accompany his soft demeanor..... and experience the non-stop, faithfulness that is his love for Hans Solo ..... and the lengths which he will go to defend his honour, the Millenium Falcon and the Force.... and the physical prowess that is his 7 foot self.....
I want to marry Chewbacca, Bailey girl, you picked a winner
.... and this place is surreal... it has the EXACT same furnishings, workout machines, televisions, and toys that have been there since I was Bailey's age... and thus I can assure you guys that Bay was having the exact same experience that I did over twenty years ago.... and it is because of this that I can extol the universal appeal of Chewbacca for girls.....
.... My cousin is not familiar with Star Wars... the original or the new craptastic films of George Lucas' creation.... however, when she stumbles upon the Chewbacca action figure (original, 1979, movin arms and legs, vintage.... suh-weet, let me just mention) she was INSTANTLY in love with his hairy self......
.....GIRLS LOVE CHEWIE..... I think it is because he resembles a teddy bear wearing a fur coat.... and the love only grows after they hear the snorting, groaning lowing noises of Shyriiwook that accompany his soft demeanor..... and experience the non-stop, faithfulness that is his love for Hans Solo ..... and the lengths which he will go to defend his honour, the Millenium Falcon and the Force.... and the physical prowess that is his 7 foot self.....
I want to marry Chewbacca, Bailey girl, you picked a winner
Monday, April 2, 2007
.... the volume of time......
....literally.... I was thinking about that this morning as my alarm clock shocked me into reality at 6:30am..... like every weekday.... well.... I sorta thought about it... as much as you can really ponder something semi-consciously as you fumble to silence Kim Mitchell in the dark.... "Patio Lanterns" may be a feel good beer-on-a-dock tune, but on a cloudy monday in the city I could strangle the guy.,....
Weekday mornings my days must start with a thunderous roar.... otherwise, I will ignoer them completely.... It must annoy my roommates to no end, but I need at least 6 or 7 sound blasts before i am able to draw myself out of bed..... I am seriously considering hiring a dude with an air horn.... to accomplish the same goal (but he would be a naked adonis, oiled up and ready with a bunch of grapes after the seventh honk)
On the weekends any little sound will wake me, and I can rise feeling refreshed and ready to meet the day, or roll over and go back to bed, but the clicking of the radiator will drive me downstairs to brew some coffee or grab the paper from the corner.....
None of this means anything..... its just noise
Weekday mornings my days must start with a thunderous roar.... otherwise, I will ignoer them completely.... It must annoy my roommates to no end, but I need at least 6 or 7 sound blasts before i am able to draw myself out of bed..... I am seriously considering hiring a dude with an air horn.... to accomplish the same goal (but he would be a naked adonis, oiled up and ready with a bunch of grapes after the seventh honk)
On the weekends any little sound will wake me, and I can rise feeling refreshed and ready to meet the day, or roll over and go back to bed, but the clicking of the radiator will drive me downstairs to brew some coffee or grab the paper from the corner.....
None of this means anything..... its just noise
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
.....timing and circumstance.....
....Can really fuck you, even when it seems to be working in your favour. you just can convince yourself that the world wants you to win.... It seems so great, you are wooing, lulling in softly. The beauty is in the numbers.... it's so far away, there's no way I can get into trouble with this one. It's an impossibility. That's the beauty of this game. With so much distance, so much warning. There is NO way you can possibly get into trouble
...truth is, you are just talking yourself into a big ass hole.... It's always trouble. There may be distance, and the timing may seem right, but the matters of your heart, the bad habits you can't get over, they are with you always.... You have gotten in the jam this time, sticky and sweet, but you look up and its all suddenly too real....
.... and now you owe toronto hydro a kajillion dollars, and you are left thinking, how the fuck did that happen? I swear to god, I just paid this off... I had so much time... they gave me an extra month...... you know how it happened
...truth is, you are just talking yourself into a big ass hole.... It's always trouble. There may be distance, and the timing may seem right, but the matters of your heart, the bad habits you can't get over, they are with you always.... You have gotten in the jam this time, sticky and sweet, but you look up and its all suddenly too real....
.... and now you owe toronto hydro a kajillion dollars, and you are left thinking, how the fuck did that happen? I swear to god, I just paid this off... I had so much time... they gave me an extra month...... you know how it happened
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
crossways, and sideways and upways and downways
I really want a glass elevator, like willy wonka has.... not like the one in the movie (in either movie) but like the one in the book, which is confined only by the limits of imagination.... that thing could go frickin'anywhere. I nmy head that (and the bus in the harry potter book) is like the coolest way to travel.... teleportaion would be nice, i mean it's fast and all, but zooming, so that it could be REALLY fast, and still include travel that would be stellar!
I like travel, its the closes thing to suspended animation I think I will ever experience, I'm there, but have nothing to do, just exist. I am doing nothing, but going somewhere, getting things done....
.... travel is the lazy mans favourite activity....
I like travel, its the closes thing to suspended animation I think I will ever experience, I'm there, but have nothing to do, just exist. I am doing nothing, but going somewhere, getting things done....
.... travel is the lazy mans favourite activity....
Monday, February 19, 2007
spring forward..... now, now, NOW
Apparently the groundhog has no effect on the lawmakers.... Daylight Saving Time has been bumped up by three weeks and now will now occur March 11 (last year it was April 2nd)
Damn Tree Huggers, always lobbying to make my life less comfortable... Actually, the bill passed so that we can make increased use of natural daylight and save on energy costs and emissions for the extra three weeks, when the sunlight through your window is waking you anyway... before the alarm goes off.
So come March 11 you will have to get out of bed one hour earlier, but at the same time.... always weird.
I am happy todo it for my sistah (mother earth)... but I will miss the loll around in bed, half-awake, half-asleep in the cognisent dream state. That's the best time of day... The only thing you are really conscious of is how comfy the bed is and how you have nothing to do but lie in it for a bit.
Why is it that the bed is never as comfortable at night as it is in the morning time... I guess dream-soaked sheets are full of the days promises, that cold floors quickly whisk away...
...errr....sorry, that was today's attempt at poetry... those days are few and far between, I promise
Damn Tree Huggers, always lobbying to make my life less comfortable... Actually, the bill passed so that we can make increased use of natural daylight and save on energy costs and emissions for the extra three weeks, when the sunlight through your window is waking you anyway... before the alarm goes off.
So come March 11 you will have to get out of bed one hour earlier, but at the same time.... always weird.
I am happy todo it for my sistah (mother earth)... but I will miss the loll around in bed, half-awake, half-asleep in the cognisent dream state. That's the best time of day... The only thing you are really conscious of is how comfy the bed is and how you have nothing to do but lie in it for a bit.
Why is it that the bed is never as comfortable at night as it is in the morning time... I guess dream-soaked sheets are full of the days promises, that cold floors quickly whisk away...
...errr....sorry, that was today's attempt at poetry... those days are few and far between, I promise
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