Lunching on shrimp tossed with finely sliced tomatoes and cucumbers in vinaigrette. Cheap luxury. Reading a book on the nature of Time. Lazy intellectualism. Listening to Duran Duran. Instant nostalgia trip. What a world I'm living in. Time spirals in on itself. In need of new material. Wrote a new vampire poem based on half a memory of one I'd written years ago. Pretention shall be the death of me someday. For now I'm just enjoying the ride.
Peace Out,
corbid on a Sunday Afternoon
Sunday, February 29, 2004
Saturday, February 28, 2004
Friday, February 27, 2004
If your name is Tina or Lizzie...
...tomorrow would be a great day to call your oldest friend :)
friday five anachronistically... Literary Five
1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)? A witty magazine, a subversive newspaper, a brilliant novel, enlightening nonficiton, cleverly worded poetry.
2. What is your favorite novel? "Animal Dreams" by Barbara Kingsolver, "Stardust" by Neil Gaiman, "The Mists of Avalon" by Marion Zimmer Bradley, "Reservation Blues" by Sherman Alexie, "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath... F***, I can't decide.
3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!) "When You Are Old" by William Butler Yeats.
4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read? "The White Goddess" by Robert Graves.
5. What are you currently reading? A Charles De Lint short story anthology, A Lester Bangs rock criticism anthology, a book on cascading style sheets, another book on languauge development in babies and toddlers, and a couple days worth of newspapers. No wonder I feel so disjointed of late.
2. What is your favorite novel? "Animal Dreams" by Barbara Kingsolver, "Stardust" by Neil Gaiman, "The Mists of Avalon" by Marion Zimmer Bradley, "Reservation Blues" by Sherman Alexie, "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath... F***, I can't decide.
3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!) "When You Are Old" by William Butler Yeats.
4. What is one thing you've always wanted to read, or wish you had more time to read? "The White Goddess" by Robert Graves.
5. What are you currently reading? A Charles De Lint short story anthology, A Lester Bangs rock criticism anthology, a book on cascading style sheets, another book on languauge development in babies and toddlers, and a couple days worth of newspapers. No wonder I feel so disjointed of late.
Bite Me
I invited the Vampire into my chamber
Because I was bored
Because it looked pretty
Because I'm no stranger to bloodletting
And it leaves such pretty corpses
Bloodless and pockets emptied but
With stories to tell in stone
And costumes and long locks of hair
And I know how to speak to the dead
And I know how to be one dead
So I open the vein
A little more
Wouldn't want Nosferatu
To break a tooth on me
The wounds sting when they're not bled
When the beast disappears
It's time to start trolling the streets
Like some ratmad Renfield
Or the Ripper's muse
Tracing the footsteps
For others of that inclination
Elusive devils
They don't seem to congregate
And when they do it is of a dangerous sort
For the purposes of collective hunting
Of souldraining blooddraining
Of lovefeigning mindreigning
And they eat the flesh and spit out the bones
And I haven't the flesh for the task so
Here I am, back in the chamber
Licking my stigmata
Till the wounds heal or the creature wakes
In silence that echoes
Because the dead won't shut up
They're like anyone else
And I say to the thing
In its velvet lined coffin
"This Sucks"
Because I was bored
Because it looked pretty
Because I'm no stranger to bloodletting
And it leaves such pretty corpses
Bloodless and pockets emptied but
With stories to tell in stone
And costumes and long locks of hair
And I know how to speak to the dead
And I know how to be one dead
So I open the vein
A little more
Wouldn't want Nosferatu
To break a tooth on me
The wounds sting when they're not bled
When the beast disappears
It's time to start trolling the streets
Like some ratmad Renfield
Or the Ripper's muse
Tracing the footsteps
For others of that inclination
Elusive devils
They don't seem to congregate
And when they do it is of a dangerous sort
For the purposes of collective hunting
Of souldraining blooddraining
Of lovefeigning mindreigning
And they eat the flesh and spit out the bones
And I haven't the flesh for the task so
Here I am, back in the chamber
Licking my stigmata
Till the wounds heal or the creature wakes
In silence that echoes
Because the dead won't shut up
They're like anyone else
And I say to the thing
In its velvet lined coffin
"This Sucks"
Thursday, February 26, 2004
Five things I never learned to do...
1) Ride a bicycle
2)Snap my fingers
3)Whistle
4)Read sheet music
5)Drive stick shift
2)Snap my fingers
3)Whistle
4)Read sheet music
5)Drive stick shift
Queen Boudicca
Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni
(Also known as Boadicea) Died A.D. 60
Boudicca has been the subject of myth and legend for centuries. Revered as a symbol of British freedom, stories of her heroism have been told to English schoolchildren for the past two hundred years. In fact, she was the wife of King Prasutagus of the Iceni, a British tribe that lived near the modern town of Colchester during the time of the Roman Emperor Nero. When Prasutagus, an ally of the Romans died, the local Roman government officials decided that they would seize her wealth and lands for themselves. When Boudicca protested, saying that she was a Roman ally who was being treated no better than a slave, the Roman soldiers flogged her and raped her daughters.
This was an atrocity that Boudicca was not about to bear without a fight. She called her tribe to arms and rebellion against the Romans. The first town to suffer her furious vengeance was Colchester, known to the Romans as Camulodunum. She burned the town and slaughtered the inhabitants. Suetonius Paulinus, the Roman governor of Britain, was away in the North destroying the Druids on the island of Anglesey when news of Boudicca's attack reached him. His army proceeded south in an orderly fashion, marching twenty-four miles each day and setting camp. Meanwhile, Boudicca was headed toward Verulamium (St. Albans). She would avoid any fortified place but attack regions where the plunder was great and the defenses were weak The Second Augusta Legion, under Petillius Cerialis, met Boudicca's eighty to one-hundred thousand rebels with two thousand Roman troops. They were almost totally wiped out, with only the cavalry escaping. After Verulamium was put to the torch, Suetonius entered Londinium (London). He advised the citizens to leave, and offered to take them with him. He didn't have enough troops with him to defend the town, and the garrison there was much too small to deal effectively with Boudicca. The main part of Suetonius?army would not arrive for many days. In the words of Tacitus, he sacrificed a town to save a province.
Word of Boudicca's barbaric deeds paralyzed the British countryside with fear. Again, we have Tacitus to tell us what happened. The British did not take or sell prisoners. They could not wait to cut throats, burn, hang, and crucify. Even today, when foundations are being dug for a new building in the three towns destroyed by Boudiccas's rebels, a thick layer of ash gives mute testimony to the completeness of the devastation. There is an unexpected benefit for the historians, though. By digging to discover what parts of the modern city have this buried layer of ash, they can map the extent of the ancient towns as they existed in the time of Boudicca when they had been in existence only fourteen years
Suetonius' careful planning and patience finally paid off. Instead of rushing into battle against a much larger force, he chose a place to meet Boudicca where his 10,000 legionaries would have the advantage against her rather disorganized 100,000 rebels. With dense woods at his back to protect him from ambush, he waited in a narrow defile for her to attack. The British were so confident of victory that they brought their families out to watch them slaughter the Romans. All day long, the British sent wave after wave of attackers against Suetonius?well-disciplined troops. Towards evening, the Romans got the upper hand and attacked, trapping the British against their own wagons and pack animals. The Romans slaughtered about 80,000 Britons, including women, children, and old men, repaying atrocities in kind. Boudicca and her two daughters poisoned themselves rather than be captured and made to walk in a triumphal procession in Rome as prisoners of war. Though both of them were responsible for much brutality in this, the Boudiccan Revolt, they are celebrated as heroes in English history and legend today
(Also known as Boadicea) Died A.D. 60
Boudicca has been the subject of myth and legend for centuries. Revered as a symbol of British freedom, stories of her heroism have been told to English schoolchildren for the past two hundred years. In fact, she was the wife of King Prasutagus of the Iceni, a British tribe that lived near the modern town of Colchester during the time of the Roman Emperor Nero. When Prasutagus, an ally of the Romans died, the local Roman government officials decided that they would seize her wealth and lands for themselves. When Boudicca protested, saying that she was a Roman ally who was being treated no better than a slave, the Roman soldiers flogged her and raped her daughters.
This was an atrocity that Boudicca was not about to bear without a fight. She called her tribe to arms and rebellion against the Romans. The first town to suffer her furious vengeance was Colchester, known to the Romans as Camulodunum. She burned the town and slaughtered the inhabitants. Suetonius Paulinus, the Roman governor of Britain, was away in the North destroying the Druids on the island of Anglesey when news of Boudicca's attack reached him. His army proceeded south in an orderly fashion, marching twenty-four miles each day and setting camp. Meanwhile, Boudicca was headed toward Verulamium (St. Albans). She would avoid any fortified place but attack regions where the plunder was great and the defenses were weak The Second Augusta Legion, under Petillius Cerialis, met Boudicca's eighty to one-hundred thousand rebels with two thousand Roman troops. They were almost totally wiped out, with only the cavalry escaping. After Verulamium was put to the torch, Suetonius entered Londinium (London). He advised the citizens to leave, and offered to take them with him. He didn't have enough troops with him to defend the town, and the garrison there was much too small to deal effectively with Boudicca. The main part of Suetonius?army would not arrive for many days. In the words of Tacitus, he sacrificed a town to save a province.
Word of Boudicca's barbaric deeds paralyzed the British countryside with fear. Again, we have Tacitus to tell us what happened. The British did not take or sell prisoners. They could not wait to cut throats, burn, hang, and crucify. Even today, when foundations are being dug for a new building in the three towns destroyed by Boudiccas's rebels, a thick layer of ash gives mute testimony to the completeness of the devastation. There is an unexpected benefit for the historians, though. By digging to discover what parts of the modern city have this buried layer of ash, they can map the extent of the ancient towns as they existed in the time of Boudicca when they had been in existence only fourteen years
Suetonius' careful planning and patience finally paid off. Instead of rushing into battle against a much larger force, he chose a place to meet Boudicca where his 10,000 legionaries would have the advantage against her rather disorganized 100,000 rebels. With dense woods at his back to protect him from ambush, he waited in a narrow defile for her to attack. The British were so confident of victory that they brought their families out to watch them slaughter the Romans. All day long, the British sent wave after wave of attackers against Suetonius?well-disciplined troops. Towards evening, the Romans got the upper hand and attacked, trapping the British against their own wagons and pack animals. The Romans slaughtered about 80,000 Britons, including women, children, and old men, repaying atrocities in kind. Boudicca and her two daughters poisoned themselves rather than be captured and made to walk in a triumphal procession in Rome as prisoners of war. Though both of them were responsible for much brutality in this, the Boudiccan Revolt, they are celebrated as heroes in English history and legend today
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
It's time for...
...McSweeney's links!
More Pope Reviews
McSweeney's
Internet Tendency:Confessions of a New Coffee Drinker
Popular Children's Fairy Tales Reimagined Using Members of The Author's Family
Is It the Flu?
The American Canon of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
It's not easy being green...
Corbid is a bit, shall we say, under the weather of late.
Not to regale you all with the sordid details, but the gist of it is that if I don't eat, I am fine until I grow weak from low blood sugar, at which point I must eat, but then when I do I grow feverish and kind of seasick and it all begins again.
Oh there was an old lady who swallowed a fly
I don't know why she swallowed the fly
Perhaps she'll die...
(Hey, you there with the elipses! Why must you always oversue the elipses? Why must you end every sentence like this...)
Distracted ramblings of a feverish brain.
Feel free to make fun of them in the comments section.
Shall sink back into my fever dream with a soundtrack by Nick Drake, courtesy of Rhapsody which is well worth the ten bucks a month if only for the immediacy of it...(more elipses, wtf?)
Not to regale you all with the sordid details, but the gist of it is that if I don't eat, I am fine until I grow weak from low blood sugar, at which point I must eat, but then when I do I grow feverish and kind of seasick and it all begins again.
Oh there was an old lady who swallowed a fly
I don't know why she swallowed the fly
Perhaps she'll die...
(Hey, you there with the elipses! Why must you always oversue the elipses? Why must you end every sentence like this...)
Distracted ramblings of a feverish brain.
Feel free to make fun of them in the comments section.
Shall sink back into my fever dream with a soundtrack by Nick Drake, courtesy of Rhapsody which is well worth the ten bucks a month if only for the immediacy of it...(more elipses, wtf?)
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Dreamt I was hanging out with Lizzie and the Chrisful one, eating leftover Lucky Wishbone in one of the motel rooms at her parents' motel. And Lizzie had cut her hair and dyed it black for some reason and had purple eyeshadow and fake lashes but was otherwise gothed out to the nines, and Chris had a Bowie haircut and a red velvet frock coat. And instead of having game night, we were going to the fineline (which doesn't even exist anyomore) and then meeting friends at a certain local bar to try and solicit them to come to our Ceilidh. And in the dream Lucky Wishbone was famous for its pickled peppers...strange.
What happens to little boys who make things up...
From an interview in The Onion with Neil Gaiman:
"All my life, I've felt that I was getting away with something because I was just making things up and writing them down, and that one day there would be a knock, and a man with a clipboard would be standing there and say, "It says here you've just been making things up all these years. Now it's time to go off and work in a bank." Because my grandmother or whoever would always warn me, as they always warn children, "Don't make things up! You know what happens to little boys who make things up!" But they never tell you what happens. As far as I can tell, it involves being able to spend a lot of time at home, plus a bit of international travel, and staying in nice hotels, and lots of very nice people who want you to sign things for them. So."
Someday I want to meet the guy just so I can muss up his hair and smile at him indulgently and go "awww..."
"All my life, I've felt that I was getting away with something because I was just making things up and writing them down, and that one day there would be a knock, and a man with a clipboard would be standing there and say, "It says here you've just been making things up all these years. Now it's time to go off and work in a bank." Because my grandmother or whoever would always warn me, as they always warn children, "Don't make things up! You know what happens to little boys who make things up!" But they never tell you what happens. As far as I can tell, it involves being able to spend a lot of time at home, plus a bit of international travel, and staying in nice hotels, and lots of very nice people who want you to sign things for them. So."
Someday I want to meet the guy just so I can muss up his hair and smile at him indulgently and go "awww..."
Monday, February 23, 2004
Tarot Cards of the Day
Three of Poetry (Creativity):
'I must Create a System, or be enslav'd by another Mans I will not Reason & Compare: my business is to Create'. A creative opportunity presents itself. A lucky break is in store for you. Taking an imaginative or literary approach is favored. A revelation of truth is at hand. All the pieces are falling into place. You achieve an understanding that has far-reaching implications. In the creative process: You get the go-ahead to 'do your thing'; your project has special blessing at this time because of your ability to see an overview or get the big picture.
Woman of Music:
"Loud & more loud the living music floats upon the air". Desire for beauty, grace, and tranquility in your surroundings. Tuning in to the emotions and needs of people around you. Psychic abilities. Using your talents and charm to best effect. Finding benefit in solitude and dreams. Uninhibited exploration and expression of ideas and feeling. In the creative process: You vibrate in tune with everything around you, sensitively aware of life energy in all its forms, from which to create something new through the filter of your own consciousness.
'I must Create a System, or be enslav'd by another Mans I will not Reason & Compare: my business is to Create'. A creative opportunity presents itself. A lucky break is in store for you. Taking an imaginative or literary approach is favored. A revelation of truth is at hand. All the pieces are falling into place. You achieve an understanding that has far-reaching implications. In the creative process: You get the go-ahead to 'do your thing'; your project has special blessing at this time because of your ability to see an overview or get the big picture.
Woman of Music:
"Loud & more loud the living music floats upon the air". Desire for beauty, grace, and tranquility in your surroundings. Tuning in to the emotions and needs of people around you. Psychic abilities. Using your talents and charm to best effect. Finding benefit in solitude and dreams. Uninhibited exploration and expression of ideas and feeling. In the creative process: You vibrate in tune with everything around you, sensitively aware of life energy in all its forms, from which to create something new through the filter of your own consciousness.
my internal dj is persistent
I'm afraid I'm going to have "Radio Free Europe" stuck in my head for days...
Saturday, February 21, 2004
Friday, February 20, 2004
Bowie Review Part II
The lights dropped. There was some amazing digital animation onscreen featuring a backing band and a blonde man with a harmonica. From backstage, came a familiarly deep, laughing voice...
And the crowd went wild...
He started in with "Rebel Rebel." He was wearing a black denim jacket with tuxedo tails and tight black jeans (dear god) as he posed and strutted and teased the audience. Mick Jagger has nothing on Bowie in their collective middle age.
Two songs off "Reality" followed (great album.)Then Bowie's cover of "Cactus" (even better live.)Then a big tease with "China Girl" (offered to let the audience sing, sat back and listened for a line or two, then took the stage and said "well, that was just fuckin' tragic, I'd better sing it myself.")
At this point, it all becomes a blur of transcendental blissfulness. I remember there was lots of material from the Eno compilations, especially "Low," and he played both "Man Who Sold The World," and "Life On Mars?" to Lizzie's great delight. He dedicated "Heroes" to the people of America, post 9/11.
At some point the topcoat and then a zebra striped jacket beneath fell away, revealing a skintight t-shirt of unknown logo. Jesus the man is well built for being 58 years old!
The band included the incomparable Earl Slick on guitar and the origianl keyboardist from "the Spiders" and of course Lizzie's "imaginary girlfriend" on bass. I'll let Lizzie explain that one...Anyway, suffice it to say, they rocked. But nothing compared to the encore...
The Ziggy Stardust Encore.
It began with "Hang On To Yourself' which I consider one of the world's first punk songs:
"Well it really comes out better on a stolen guitar/you're the blessed/we're the Spiders from Mars"
I was pogoing in my 4 inch boots and red velvet and tossing my pigtails wildly. Lizzie was transfixed (and corseted in plaid, in case you were wondering.)
It continued:
"Five Years," "Suffragette City," and last but not least "Ziggy Stardust" itself. So that the last words our idol sang to us were...
..."Ziggy played gui..taaar.."
We were fifteen years old again, not grown women with Hello Kitty accessories.We were awestruck. We were starstruck. We were speechless. We barely spoke the whole way home, just listened to CDs and digested the experience. Even skipped the traditional Waffle House outing on the way back. I think we were a bit physically and psychically exhausted. I for one slept like a wee baby thereafter.
Anyway, I shall die fulfilled now. I have indeed seen God. And if I haven't said it properly quite yet, I'll say it now:
Thank you,Lizzie!!!
And now, as if that weren't enough, here's a Friday Five:
When was the last time you...
1. ...went to the doctor? About 3 months ago.
2. ...went to the dentist? You don't want to know...
3. ...filled your gas tank? Today!
4. ...got enough sleep? Sunday, for a change.
5. ...backed up your computer? What? You mean it doesn't do that for me?
And the crowd went wild...
He started in with "Rebel Rebel." He was wearing a black denim jacket with tuxedo tails and tight black jeans (dear god) as he posed and strutted and teased the audience. Mick Jagger has nothing on Bowie in their collective middle age.
Two songs off "Reality" followed (great album.)Then Bowie's cover of "Cactus" (even better live.)Then a big tease with "China Girl" (offered to let the audience sing, sat back and listened for a line or two, then took the stage and said "well, that was just fuckin' tragic, I'd better sing it myself.")
At this point, it all becomes a blur of transcendental blissfulness. I remember there was lots of material from the Eno compilations, especially "Low," and he played both "Man Who Sold The World," and "Life On Mars?" to Lizzie's great delight. He dedicated "Heroes" to the people of America, post 9/11.
At some point the topcoat and then a zebra striped jacket beneath fell away, revealing a skintight t-shirt of unknown logo. Jesus the man is well built for being 58 years old!
The band included the incomparable Earl Slick on guitar and the origianl keyboardist from "the Spiders" and of course Lizzie's "imaginary girlfriend" on bass. I'll let Lizzie explain that one...Anyway, suffice it to say, they rocked. But nothing compared to the encore...
The Ziggy Stardust Encore.
It began with "Hang On To Yourself' which I consider one of the world's first punk songs:
"Well it really comes out better on a stolen guitar/you're the blessed/we're the Spiders from Mars"
I was pogoing in my 4 inch boots and red velvet and tossing my pigtails wildly. Lizzie was transfixed (and corseted in plaid, in case you were wondering.)
It continued:
"Five Years," "Suffragette City," and last but not least "Ziggy Stardust" itself. So that the last words our idol sang to us were...
..."Ziggy played gui..taaar.."
We were fifteen years old again, not grown women with Hello Kitty accessories.We were awestruck. We were starstruck. We were speechless. We barely spoke the whole way home, just listened to CDs and digested the experience. Even skipped the traditional Waffle House outing on the way back. I think we were a bit physically and psychically exhausted. I for one slept like a wee baby thereafter.
Anyway, I shall die fulfilled now. I have indeed seen God. And if I haven't said it properly quite yet, I'll say it now:
Thank you,Lizzie!!!
And now, as if that weren't enough, here's a Friday Five:
When was the last time you...
1. ...went to the doctor? About 3 months ago.
2. ...went to the dentist? You don't want to know...
3. ...filled your gas tank? Today!
4. ...got enough sleep? Sunday, for a change.
5. ...backed up your computer? What? You mean it doesn't do that for me?
Tarot for the Day (William Blake deck)
Liberty: An emerging and powerful sense of personal freedom. Hearing a call to action. Awakening to a deeper level of awareness or sense of spiritual self. A rebirth or basic change of state. Making an important decision or judgment, perhaps one long delayed. Being released from limiting circumstances.
Child of Painting: Riding the wave of prosperity. A time to show your hand and reveal your innate powers. Enjoying a position of material advantage. Putting forth charisma. Hedonistic enjoyment. Drug experimentation. Surfing the Internet. Total absorption in your activities. Trusting your body and instincts. Open to new experiences. In the creative process: Now is a time to experiment with processes and materials, taking great pleasure in what you learn and create.
Child of Painting: Riding the wave of prosperity. A time to show your hand and reveal your innate powers. Enjoying a position of material advantage. Putting forth charisma. Hedonistic enjoyment. Drug experimentation. Surfing the Internet. Total absorption in your activities. Trusting your body and instincts. Open to new experiences. In the creative process: Now is a time to experiment with processes and materials, taking great pleasure in what you learn and create.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
Or maybe it's just me.
Happened to catch about 5 minutes of "Oprah" today and was a mite perplexed. A couple was sitting there beaming as the wife rather sweetly explained that she didn't blame her almost total lack of sexual fulfilment on her husband, and that she knew he loved her very much, etc,etc. She confessed that she continually "faked it" because she didn't want him to feel bad.
Um...
It occurs to me that if you don't want the guy to feel bad, then maybe you shouldn't bring him on Oprah and tell the world how bad he is at sex. You know, for starters.
Um...
It occurs to me that if you don't want the guy to feel bad, then maybe you shouldn't bring him on Oprah and tell the world how bad he is at sex. You know, for starters.
The Velvet Underground
Have fallen in love with the second Velvet Underground album, particularly the song "The Murder Mystery."
Shall have a new mix tracklisting up in the near future including this and many other things...
Shall have a new mix tracklisting up in the near future including this and many other things...
Since it's been two weeks already...
Part I of he long awaited Bowie Review:
Many years ago in Phoenix, my best friend Lizzie and I relaized a lifelong aspiration and saw David Bowie in concert with Nine Inch Nails on the "Outside" tour. Spaz girl that I am, I forgot the tickets, which we realized when we were halfway there, We had to turn back and start over and missed the opening band (does anybody remember Prick? Thought not)
While that was a great show in many ways, I think that we both came away a tiny bit disappointed. Partly this was the fault of the Nine Inch Nails fans, who were rude and loud and threw ice at His Royal Bowieness, costing us an encore and prompting the Man himself to stop midsong and adress the audience with in an elegant tone of gracious disdain: "Excuse me, would you like us to continue the show? All right, then. Thank you."
Also, Bowie was in the midst of one of his "no hits" phases and refused to play the classics of his catalogue. So while there were lots of nods to the past, especially the "Scary Monsters" LP, we heard none of the anthems of our teenage fandom. Plus, one must admit, the songs on "Outside" are for the most part rather creepy and depressing.
So in many ways, Phoenix 1995 was a bust Bowiewise for us. Lizzie has since had the oppurtunity to see concerts in both Las Vegas and San Francisco. And, enviably, was noticed by Bowie at the San Francisco show, even if it was just for entering the venue slightly late. "Fashionably" late is, in case you haven't noticed, sort of our M.O. when it comes to things of this nature:)
And late we were once again. I blame mapquest, but then again, I was in charge of the mapquesting. And somebody who shall remain nameless got a bit insecure about their outfit and hair arrangement choices...We headed out a bit late, with the Chrisful one and the Lovely Miss Thea in tow, and a truckful of caffeine and Luna bars, with "Reality" blasting from the speakers.
Anyway, the short version is that we once again missed the opening act. It's getting to be a tradition, like going to late night diners and ordering the hashbrowns afterwards (although this time we did drive through Jack In The Box and bacon cheese potato wedges - we're getting lazy in our old age.) So, no Macy Gray for us. We settled in nicely just as the intermission began, and even had time to acquire food and beer (my god, does the Dodge Theatre make an excellent Chicken Caesar Salad...) and awaited the culmination of our pilgrimage...
(To Be Continued.)
Many years ago in Phoenix, my best friend Lizzie and I relaized a lifelong aspiration and saw David Bowie in concert with Nine Inch Nails on the "Outside" tour. Spaz girl that I am, I forgot the tickets, which we realized when we were halfway there, We had to turn back and start over and missed the opening band (does anybody remember Prick? Thought not)
While that was a great show in many ways, I think that we both came away a tiny bit disappointed. Partly this was the fault of the Nine Inch Nails fans, who were rude and loud and threw ice at His Royal Bowieness, costing us an encore and prompting the Man himself to stop midsong and adress the audience with in an elegant tone of gracious disdain: "Excuse me, would you like us to continue the show? All right, then. Thank you."
Also, Bowie was in the midst of one of his "no hits" phases and refused to play the classics of his catalogue. So while there were lots of nods to the past, especially the "Scary Monsters" LP, we heard none of the anthems of our teenage fandom. Plus, one must admit, the songs on "Outside" are for the most part rather creepy and depressing.
So in many ways, Phoenix 1995 was a bust Bowiewise for us. Lizzie has since had the oppurtunity to see concerts in both Las Vegas and San Francisco. And, enviably, was noticed by Bowie at the San Francisco show, even if it was just for entering the venue slightly late. "Fashionably" late is, in case you haven't noticed, sort of our M.O. when it comes to things of this nature:)
And late we were once again. I blame mapquest, but then again, I was in charge of the mapquesting. And somebody who shall remain nameless got a bit insecure about their outfit and hair arrangement choices...We headed out a bit late, with the Chrisful one and the Lovely Miss Thea in tow, and a truckful of caffeine and Luna bars, with "Reality" blasting from the speakers.
Anyway, the short version is that we once again missed the opening act. It's getting to be a tradition, like going to late night diners and ordering the hashbrowns afterwards (although this time we did drive through Jack In The Box and bacon cheese potato wedges - we're getting lazy in our old age.) So, no Macy Gray for us. We settled in nicely just as the intermission began, and even had time to acquire food and beer (my god, does the Dodge Theatre make an excellent Chicken Caesar Salad...) and awaited the culmination of our pilgrimage...
(To Be Continued.)
I'm a little hennahead princess
Marinating yet again...
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
oblique strategies of the day (ala brian eno)
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Don't be frightened of cliches
Look closely at the most embarrassing details & amplify them
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Don't be frightened of cliches
Look closely at the most embarrassing details & amplify them
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Ceridwen
Ceridwen is a magician who features in the mythical version of the life of the genuine bard Taliesin. Ceridwen had an ugly son, Afagddu ("ugly"), whom she wished to make wise. She brewed a magical liquid and had her kitchen boy Gwion tend it. Three drops scalded his hand and he licked them off, instantly acquiring all the knowledge. In an ancient, ancient hunt she pursued him: first she became a greyhound and he a hare, then she an otter and he a fish, then she a hawk and he a rabbit. Finally, she became a hen and he a grain of corn, and she ate him. She became pregnant with him and he was born nine months later, a boy of astounding grace and beauty whom she named Taliesin and put into a coracle in the sea.
More politicism, but for a good cause
Passed on by a friend: as it becomes more and more certain that President Bush was aware there was no credible evidence of Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq, the "Moveon" organization has issued a call for censure. I swear to god the next post will be amusing or insightful and not so bleeding heart, knee jerk liberally biased...
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
A forward from my inbox
Why not make this your good deed for the day...
From: Online Action Center Alert List
Date: 02/17/04 09:06:49
To: corbid@cox.net
Subject: Action Needed Immediately to Protect Rodi Alvarado
Dear Corbid:
Your action is needed immediately to help protect Rodi Alvarado and other women fleeing gender persecution.
Nearly a year ago, Attorney General John Ashcroft said that he would personally decide the asylum case of Rodi Alvarado, a Guatemalan woman whose government failed to protect her during ten years of horrific abuse by her husband. When deciding that case, Ashcroft also planned to issue regulations that could bar many people, especially women fleeing gender-based persecution, from asylum in the United States. Fearing that the Attorney General would deny Ms. Alvarado asylum and issue restrictive regulations, Amnesty campaigned to prevent such a decision. There has been no decision so far, but now it seems imminent.
--> Please send appeals in your own words as quickly as possible to U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft and to Homeland Security Secretary Tom Ridge. To take action, click on this link or paste it into your Web browser:
http://takeaction.amnestyusa.org/ctt.asp?u=624826&l=7991
About Rodi Alvarado
The terrible facts of Rodi Alvarado's case are undisputed. She fled Guatemala and applied for asylum in the United States in 1995, after suffering ten years of relentless domestic abuse. Her husband Francisco Osorio, a former soldier, attempted to abort their second child by kicking her in the spine, dislocated her jaw, tried to cut her hands off with a machete, kicked her in the genitals, and used her head to break windows and mirrors. Ms. Alvarado sought assistance from the Guatemalan police and the courts - in vain. If Mr. Ashcroft denies asylum to Rodi Alvarado, she would be deported to Guatemala, where she faces battering and possible killing by her husband, who has vowed to find her.
Online Action Center
Amnesty International USA
From: Online Action Center Alert List
Date: 02/17/04 09:06:49
To: corbid@cox.net
Subject: Action Needed Immediately to Protect Rodi Alvarado
Dear Corbid:
Your action is needed immediately to help protect Rodi Alvarado and other women fleeing gender persecution.
Nearly a year ago, Attorney General John Ashcroft said that he would personally decide the asylum case of Rodi Alvarado, a Guatemalan woman whose government failed to protect her during ten years of horrific abuse by her husband. When deciding that case, Ashcroft also planned to issue regulations that could bar many people, especially women fleeing gender-based persecution, from asylum in the United States. Fearing that the Attorney General would deny Ms. Alvarado asylum and issue restrictive regulations, Amnesty campaigned to prevent such a decision. There has been no decision so far, but now it seems imminent.
--> Please send appeals in your own words as quickly as possible to U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft and to Homeland Security Secretary Tom Ridge. To take action, click on this link or paste it into your Web browser:
http://takeaction.amnestyusa.org/ctt.asp?u=624826&l=7991
About Rodi Alvarado
The terrible facts of Rodi Alvarado's case are undisputed. She fled Guatemala and applied for asylum in the United States in 1995, after suffering ten years of relentless domestic abuse. Her husband Francisco Osorio, a former soldier, attempted to abort their second child by kicking her in the spine, dislocated her jaw, tried to cut her hands off with a machete, kicked her in the genitals, and used her head to break windows and mirrors. Ms. Alvarado sought assistance from the Guatemalan police and the courts - in vain. If Mr. Ashcroft denies asylum to Rodi Alvarado, she would be deported to Guatemala, where she faces battering and possible killing by her husband, who has vowed to find her.
Online Action Center
Amnesty International USA
Monday, February 16, 2004
Sunday Morning
Ghost of a touch recedes on waking
Invisibly substantial as a phantom limb
Some hearts dream paralell and others silent
Sing prayers and speak in sighs to purge the heart to save the soul
Salvation is elusive
Redemption something other
Save your soul
On a block of ice
Fresh and bloody for the wolves outside your door
Hang on cruel words like crosses
Welcome your hells and favorite torturers
Rise from the depths and live once more
In richness and sin
Until Sunday comes again
Invisibly substantial as a phantom limb
Some hearts dream paralell and others silent
Sing prayers and speak in sighs to purge the heart to save the soul
Salvation is elusive
Redemption something other
Save your soul
On a block of ice
Fresh and bloody for the wolves outside your door
Hang on cruel words like crosses
Welcome your hells and favorite torturers
Rise from the depths and live once more
In richness and sin
Until Sunday comes again
********************************************************************************************
Four of Cups (Mixed Happiness): Find a moment of peace and balance. Action is possible and will lead to growth.
Two of Swords (Peace): Tranquility. Opportunity for prospering.
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Four of Cups (Mixed Happiness): Find a moment of peace and balance. Action is possible and will lead to growth.
Two of Swords (Peace): Tranquility. Opportunity for prospering.
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Coming soon...
Confessions of a call center indentured servant...
Unicorns
Myth of the Day:The unicorn is a legendary animal. It is usually portrayed as a slender, white horse with a spiraling horn on its forehead, although its appearance and behavior differs, depending on the location. In the west it was usually considered wild and untamable, while in the Orient it was peaceful, meek and thought to be the bringer of good luck. There it is usually depicted as a goat-like creature, with cloven hooves and a beard. In Japan it is called Kirin, and in China Ki-lin.
The word "unicorn" is based on the Hebrew word re'em ("horn"), in early versions of the Old Testament translated as "monokeros", meaning "one horn", which became "unicorn" in English. The creature is possibly based on the rhinoceros or the narwhal, a marine creature with one horn.
In the west it was first mentioned by the Greek historian Ctesias in 398 BCE. According to him they lived in India and he described them as 'wild asses which are as big as a horse, even bigger. Their bodies are white, their heads dark red and their eyes are deep blue. They have a single horn on their forehead which is approximately half-a-meter long.' This description was based on the tales of travelers, and is a mixture of an Indian rhinoceros, the Himalayan antelope, and the wild ass.
The horn itself is white at the base, black in the middle and with a sharp, red tip. It is believed to possess healing abilities. Dust filed from the horn was thought to protect against poison, and many diseases. It could even resurrect the dead. Amongst royalty and nobility in the Middle Ages, it became quite fashionable to own a drinking cup made of the horn of an unicorn, not in the least because it was supposed to detect poison.
The belief in the healing abilities of the horn is probably based on a medieval story. In this particular tale, many animals once gathered around a pool in the midst of night. The water was poisoned and they could not drink from it, until a unicorn appeared. He simply dipped his horn in the pool and the water became fresh and clean again.
Another medieval story tells of the capture of a unicorn by a maiden. The unicorn was far too fast and wild for the man that was hunting him. He could only be tamed by a maiden who sat lonely underneath a tree in the woods. Attracted by the scent of purity he would lay his head on her lap and she would rock him to sleep. Then she would cut of his horn, and leave him for the hunter and his dogs.
There have been attempts to give these tales a Christian interpretation. In the first tale the horn symbolizes the cross and the pool the sins of the world. In the second story the maiden was Maria, the unicorn Jesus Christ and the horn a representation of the unity of the Father and the Son. Jesus, embodied in the unicorn, was killed for sake of a sinful world.
Article details
N/A
Article created on 03 March 1997; last modified on 25 April 2001.
� 1995-2004 Encyclopedia Mythica. All rights reserved.
"Unicorn." Encyclopedia Mythica from Encyclopedia Mythica Online.
[Accessed February 16, 2004].
The word "unicorn" is based on the Hebrew word re'em ("horn"), in early versions of the Old Testament translated as "monokeros", meaning "one horn", which became "unicorn" in English. The creature is possibly based on the rhinoceros or the narwhal, a marine creature with one horn.
In the west it was first mentioned by the Greek historian Ctesias in 398 BCE. According to him they lived in India and he described them as 'wild asses which are as big as a horse, even bigger. Their bodies are white, their heads dark red and their eyes are deep blue. They have a single horn on their forehead which is approximately half-a-meter long.' This description was based on the tales of travelers, and is a mixture of an Indian rhinoceros, the Himalayan antelope, and the wild ass.
The horn itself is white at the base, black in the middle and with a sharp, red tip. It is believed to possess healing abilities. Dust filed from the horn was thought to protect against poison, and many diseases. It could even resurrect the dead. Amongst royalty and nobility in the Middle Ages, it became quite fashionable to own a drinking cup made of the horn of an unicorn, not in the least because it was supposed to detect poison.
The belief in the healing abilities of the horn is probably based on a medieval story. In this particular tale, many animals once gathered around a pool in the midst of night. The water was poisoned and they could not drink from it, until a unicorn appeared. He simply dipped his horn in the pool and the water became fresh and clean again.
Another medieval story tells of the capture of a unicorn by a maiden. The unicorn was far too fast and wild for the man that was hunting him. He could only be tamed by a maiden who sat lonely underneath a tree in the woods. Attracted by the scent of purity he would lay his head on her lap and she would rock him to sleep. Then she would cut of his horn, and leave him for the hunter and his dogs.
There have been attempts to give these tales a Christian interpretation. In the first tale the horn symbolizes the cross and the pool the sins of the world. In the second story the maiden was Maria, the unicorn Jesus Christ and the horn a representation of the unity of the Father and the Son. Jesus, embodied in the unicorn, was killed for sake of a sinful world.
Article details
N/A
Article created on 03 March 1997; last modified on 25 April 2001.
� 1995-2004 Encyclopedia Mythica. All rights reserved.
"Unicorn." Encyclopedia Mythica from Encyclopedia Mythica Online.
[Accessed February 16, 2004].
Friday, February 13, 2004
100 Hersheys Kisses Just For You
Happy Valentine's Day to one and all, from the girl who always has candy:Virtual Hersheys Kisses.
And following that, an excerpt from a strange story...
And following that, an excerpt from a strange story...
Part II: Why Bowie was singularly suited to be our muse...plus Friday Five
I dont know what it was anout Bowie that really spoke to the core of me, even more so than previous obsessions such as Pink Floyd or John Lennon or the vast array of punkdom. Maybe because it was more than music. Bowie wrote philosophical science fiction epics and passed them off as rock albums. He was odd and brilliant and full of strange light. His genre was a sort of postmodern vaudville, theatre and sound and sexual energy combined with tremendous energy and wit. And even though he was an elder statesman of sorts even then, to us in the Reaganoid wasteland that was 1988, he was an undiscovered country. Little rebellious, oddball teenage girls with literary pretentions and dragon rings, reading Dylan Thomas and watching Dr Who over the phone on Saturday nights. No hero more fit for us than this exotic creature with two toned eyes and engulfing aura, who was both outcast and idol, icon and iconoclast. Or, in his own words, "comedian, chameleon, Corinthian, and caricature."
Random Bowie moments:
1991 - Senior year, we are assigned to audition freeform solo projects in Choir. Lizzie and decide to collaborate on a relatively odd and unknown Bowie song "The Man Who Sold The World," with me taking the lead vocal and Lizzie on piano and harmony.
1994 - Kurt Cobain less than a week dead, I flip on the radio to hear Nirvana singing "my" Bowie song. Chills run down my spine.
1995 - At last we have a chance to see the Man live, in Phoenix, on tour with Nine Inch Nails, on the "Outside" tour. That story I shall relate in the next installment...
For now, Friday Five:
1. Are you superstitious?
Superstitious, Obsessive Compulsive, tomato,tomahto...
2. What extremes have you heard of someone going to in the name of superstition?
My parents gave up an oppurtunity to see a solar eclipse in Mexico because they thought the Rapture was coming, I swear to god.
3. Believer or not, what's your favorite superstition?
A superstition prevalent in my own family's tradition is that one must include money in any gift of a purse or wallet. Every year for Christmas, my sister and I would claim we needed a new wallet :)
4. Do you believe in luck? If yes, do you have a lucky number/article of clothing/ritual?
Number of icons, necklaces and soforth that give me a sense of personal comfort.
5. Do you believe in astrology? Why or why not?
I believe all forms of divination are akin to inkblots. Useful as a means of perspective rather than actual fortunetelling.
Random Bowie moments:
1991 - Senior year, we are assigned to audition freeform solo projects in Choir. Lizzie and decide to collaborate on a relatively odd and unknown Bowie song "The Man Who Sold The World," with me taking the lead vocal and Lizzie on piano and harmony.
1994 - Kurt Cobain less than a week dead, I flip on the radio to hear Nirvana singing "my" Bowie song. Chills run down my spine.
1995 - At last we have a chance to see the Man live, in Phoenix, on tour with Nine Inch Nails, on the "Outside" tour. That story I shall relate in the next installment...
For now, Friday Five:
1. Are you superstitious?
Superstitious, Obsessive Compulsive, tomato,tomahto...
2. What extremes have you heard of someone going to in the name of superstition?
My parents gave up an oppurtunity to see a solar eclipse in Mexico because they thought the Rapture was coming, I swear to god.
3. Believer or not, what's your favorite superstition?
A superstition prevalent in my own family's tradition is that one must include money in any gift of a purse or wallet. Every year for Christmas, my sister and I would claim we needed a new wallet :)
4. Do you believe in luck? If yes, do you have a lucky number/article of clothing/ritual?
Number of icons, necklaces and soforth that give me a sense of personal comfort.
5. Do you believe in astrology? Why or why not?
I believe all forms of divination are akin to inkblots. Useful as a means of perspective rather than actual fortunetelling.
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Watching the movie "Sylvia"...
So far, the primary message of the movie is that poetesses write better poetry when men treat them like shit. The movie "Frida" seemed to imply similar things about women artists. Disturbing trend. Do you suppose there's any truth to it? Is misery a prerequisite for great art? And if so, is it better to have a society full of happy individuals with no creative output, or one with a few unredeemably ravaged souls, but lots of beautiful forms of expression?
How's that for a loaded question?
Whilst, a bit of a cliche as well, I suppose.
So no points for me today originalitywise...
How's that for a loaded question?
Whilst, a bit of a cliche as well, I suppose.
So no points for me today originalitywise...
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
On Bowie
This is part one in a series leading up to my actual review of the concert.
I feel that first I must expound upon the import of Bowieness upon the formation of my youth.
Bear with me as I was nostalgic and self importnat...
Part I: Ziggy Saves
When I was 14, my best friend lent me a copy of "Never Let Me Down" and rented the movie "Labyrinth" for me.
I lapped it up like cream set before a housecat and was dying for more. It was 1988 and Bowie's catalogue had not yet been rereleased by Ryko, so the only way to find the bulk of it was to go trolling the aisles of Bookman's for ancient original cassette releases.
Sophomore year, I found what I was after. Manna from heaven. The Holy Grail. I came to possess a copy of "The Rise and Fall Of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars."Lying on my floor, feet up against the dresser, eyes closed, I imagined the story of the Starman rock saviour coming down to save a world that had only five years left to live. I was transfixed, I was transformed.
coming soon...why Bowie?
I feel that first I must expound upon the import of Bowieness upon the formation of my youth.
Bear with me as I was nostalgic and self importnat...
Part I: Ziggy Saves
When I was 14, my best friend lent me a copy of "Never Let Me Down" and rented the movie "Labyrinth" for me.
I lapped it up like cream set before a housecat and was dying for more. It was 1988 and Bowie's catalogue had not yet been rereleased by Ryko, so the only way to find the bulk of it was to go trolling the aisles of Bookman's for ancient original cassette releases.
Sophomore year, I found what I was after. Manna from heaven. The Holy Grail. I came to possess a copy of "The Rise and Fall Of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars."Lying on my floor, feet up against the dresser, eyes closed, I imagined the story of the Starman rock saviour coming down to save a world that had only five years left to live. I was transfixed, I was transformed.
coming soon...why Bowie?
Bowie in the Hollywood Tarot
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Bowie as the nine of Pentacles
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Bowie as the nine of Pentacles
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
David Bowie's Two Coloured Eyes
Myth of the Day:
Why has David got odd looking eyes?
He has a condition called aniscoria, which is the medical term for unequal pupils. In 1962, aged 14, he got punched in the eye by his school friend George Underwood, during an argument over a girl named Carol Goldsmith. George's knuckle caught David's eye and dislodged something. David was admitted to Farnborough Hospital, where it was found that the sphincter muscles in his left eye were damaged and he underwent two eye operations. He has an enlarged pupil that remains permanently open, giving the effect of different coloured eyes. David and George are to this day still life-long friends.
George played in early Bowie groups and eventually became a commercial artist. He was involved in the design of the album sleeves for Hunky Dory (1971), The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars (1972) albums/posters/flyers, graphics for The 1980 Floor Show and The Man Who Fell To Earth book cover.
Why has David got odd looking eyes?
He has a condition called aniscoria, which is the medical term for unequal pupils. In 1962, aged 14, he got punched in the eye by his school friend George Underwood, during an argument over a girl named Carol Goldsmith. George's knuckle caught David's eye and dislodged something. David was admitted to Farnborough Hospital, where it was found that the sphincter muscles in his left eye were damaged and he underwent two eye operations. He has an enlarged pupil that remains permanently open, giving the effect of different coloured eyes. David and George are to this day still life-long friends.
George played in early Bowie groups and eventually became a commercial artist. He was involved in the design of the album sleeves for Hunky Dory (1971), The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars (1972) albums/posters/flyers, graphics for The 1980 Floor Show and The Man Who Fell To Earth book cover.
Sunday, February 08, 2004
The International Language...
Obviously, there will be a Bowie review shortly, but until then I shall address more important things, such as...
How To Swear In Five Celtic Language Variants:
Scottish Gaelic
Irish Gaelic
Welsh
Breton
Manx Gaelic
Also, how to swear in Trainspottingese...
And in Latin!
How To Swear In Five Celtic Language Variants:
Scottish Gaelic
Irish Gaelic
Welsh
Breton
Manx Gaelic
Also, how to swear in Trainspottingese...
And in Latin!
Saturday, February 07, 2004
Read some Yeats Or Walk The @#$%ing Plank...
There's brain candy for thwarted English Majors atJollyroger.com.
All manner of classical literary and philosophical geekdom resides in this "portal of the open source online renaissance." Still, there's always going to be a bad egg or two. For example, in the Greek Mythology forum, somebody posted "I need pictures of Uranus for my project, does anyone know where to find them?" to which there were several tasteful replies of "$%&# you" because they don't actively swear at jollyroger.com, apparently.
But seriously, name your major literary figure and there's bound to be a forum for them on the site. Plus they take poetry and digital photography submissions and soforth. The web is truly doing its part to destupefy the unwashed lethargic masses these days, methinks.
If you're not so literarily minded at the moment, though, check out the guide to swearing in multiple gaelic dialects...
All manner of classical literary and philosophical geekdom resides in this "portal of the open source online renaissance." Still, there's always going to be a bad egg or two. For example, in the Greek Mythology forum, somebody posted "I need pictures of Uranus for my project, does anyone know where to find them?" to which there were several tasteful replies of "$%&# you" because they don't actively swear at jollyroger.com, apparently.
But seriously, name your major literary figure and there's bound to be a forum for them on the site. Plus they take poetry and digital photography submissions and soforth. The web is truly doing its part to destupefy the unwashed lethargic masses these days, methinks.
If you're not so literarily minded at the moment, though, check out the guide to swearing in multiple gaelic dialects...
Friday, February 06, 2004
Bowieness
A postmortem shall appear whence I've had a chance to fully digest it all.
But in a nutshell, I saw the Reality tour and it was a quasireligious experience, to say the least.
For now, a Friday Five, even though it's cheesy and you guys almost never answer them...
1. What's the most daring thing you've ever done? Natural childbirth...top that if you can...
2. What one thing would you like to try that your mother/friend/significant other would never approve of? Absinthe. Or possibly a very unnatural hair color.
3. On a scale of 1-10, what's your risk factor? (1=never take risks, 10=it's a lifestyle) Maybe a 5? Want to take risks, but have children to think of :)
4. What's the best thing that's ever happened to you as a result of being bold/risky? Renewed a friendship through frank disclosure.
5. ... and what's the worst? Near fatal embarrassment.
But in a nutshell, I saw the Reality tour and it was a quasireligious experience, to say the least.
For now, a Friday Five, even though it's cheesy and you guys almost never answer them...
1. What's the most daring thing you've ever done? Natural childbirth...top that if you can...
2. What one thing would you like to try that your mother/friend/significant other would never approve of? Absinthe. Or possibly a very unnatural hair color.
3. On a scale of 1-10, what's your risk factor? (1=never take risks, 10=it's a lifestyle) Maybe a 5? Want to take risks, but have children to think of :)
4. What's the best thing that's ever happened to you as a result of being bold/risky? Renewed a friendship through frank disclosure.
5. ... and what's the worst? Near fatal embarrassment.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
The Difference...
...between poetry and fiction is that no one finds you odd if you write poetry as a second person narrative.
This is most cool, indeed...
A trove of vintage liquor posters...
Nocturnal musings of the night past...
Can't remember the rest of this dream, but at some point I returned to my childhood home and was given a "Sandman" painting by my parents...
On blogging, newsgroup posting and the like...
It is my contention that the web is an artist's commune to the nth degree. The biggest Salon ever frequented. Cafe Society with optional caffeine. Look to history for examples. The English Romantics,the Preraphealites, the Beat Poets,the Lost Generation,the writers and artists of the Irish Rennaissance, all examples of communities of thinking, creative people who corresponded with one another to the betterment of their particular movements. The web is just a gigantic extension of that phenomenon, and though maybe we aren't all tortured geniuses or anything, everybody gets to play, not just the intellectual elite. And, anyway, it keeps us polished and verbally sharp and excercises the wit most of us have been conditioned to sublimate in the wake of crass and commercial society. Plus, it's a wonderful experiment in mass intellectual socialism, putting starving students and suburban cubicle slaves on an equal footing with artists, musicians, and political figures. Encouraging debate as well as common interest.
Or something like that.
But enough with the philospophical rumination. I'm going to see David Bowie tommorrow!
Or something like that.
But enough with the philospophical rumination. I'm going to see David Bowie tommorrow!
William Blake Tarot
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Man of Science: Being submerged in thought. A time of intense mental focus. Perfectionism. Personal detachment and self-possession. Working on your own, or in isolation. In the creative process: Scrutinize and test every aspect of your work so as to refine and perfect it.
Reason: Using your head to get through a situation. A time to define or obey the rules. Yielding to or being the boss, or authority figure. Patriarchal or traditional approach is favored. Fathering issues.
Fathering Issues? Whatever.
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Man of Science: Being submerged in thought. A time of intense mental focus. Perfectionism. Personal detachment and self-possession. Working on your own, or in isolation. In the creative process: Scrutinize and test every aspect of your work so as to refine and perfect it.
Reason: Using your head to get through a situation. A time to define or obey the rules. Yielding to or being the boss, or authority figure. Patriarchal or traditional approach is favored. Fathering issues.
Fathering Issues? Whatever.
mythology
detritus
opinion
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Why David Bowie Is A God, Part One
Most people's reactions to the phenomenon of David Bowie generally fall under one of the following categories:
1)Think of him primarily as an 80's icon when they think of him at all.
2)Liked Ziggy Stardust, Space Oddity and maybe a couple of other things, but generally think of him as at best an aper of lesser known but more talented artists, and at worst a flat out rock and roll plagiarist.
3)Then there are those of us who think the man's a genius.
Allow me to speak on behalf of the group with which I align myself, if you'll be so kind.
Those who don't know much about the man's music are sorely deprived. Those who criticize it for being derivative are missing the point.
Bowie is not so much a great musician as he is an expert stylist. In a world of painters, he's a collage artist. The man soaks up influences like a sponge, polishes and rearranges them and makes them his own.
Put another way, Bowie is the musical equivalent of your slightly well off, intellectual friend or neighbor who's always just read the most thought provoking novel or seen the latest indie film and wants to invite you over to eat sushi and listen to the new Radiohead album on their new surround sound system. And lyrically, the man is from a planet where everyone speaks in abstract impressionist poetry with philosphical underpinnings and occasional drug use. Sometimes they're a mite obtuse, but his lyrics always make you stop and ponder a bit, should you take the time to properly listen to them. And occasionally they belie a rich and complex dry wit. Sarcasm that rivals Elvis Costello at his best.
And sure, one might argue there's more raw talent to be found in an Iggy Pop or a Lou Reed, but Bowie has more poise and class and genius at self presentation than either of those two have in their little fingers, plus where would they be without the man? Certainly not on major record labels well into their fifties!
And if all of that fails to convince you, then just look at the man. He's fucking hot! Still! After all these years! Look at Rod Stewart and Mick Jagger, for example, and then look at Bowie. Clearly there's some sort of pact with Satan or Portrait of Dorian Gray in the closet or something because Bowie's enduring hotness truly defies the laws of physics. Then again, he's half Irish and you know about those Irish anti-aging genes. I for one have always been singularly partial to them ;)
1)Think of him primarily as an 80's icon when they think of him at all.
2)Liked Ziggy Stardust, Space Oddity and maybe a couple of other things, but generally think of him as at best an aper of lesser known but more talented artists, and at worst a flat out rock and roll plagiarist.
3)Then there are those of us who think the man's a genius.
Allow me to speak on behalf of the group with which I align myself, if you'll be so kind.
Those who don't know much about the man's music are sorely deprived. Those who criticize it for being derivative are missing the point.
Bowie is not so much a great musician as he is an expert stylist. In a world of painters, he's a collage artist. The man soaks up influences like a sponge, polishes and rearranges them and makes them his own.
Put another way, Bowie is the musical equivalent of your slightly well off, intellectual friend or neighbor who's always just read the most thought provoking novel or seen the latest indie film and wants to invite you over to eat sushi and listen to the new Radiohead album on their new surround sound system. And lyrically, the man is from a planet where everyone speaks in abstract impressionist poetry with philosphical underpinnings and occasional drug use. Sometimes they're a mite obtuse, but his lyrics always make you stop and ponder a bit, should you take the time to properly listen to them. And occasionally they belie a rich and complex dry wit. Sarcasm that rivals Elvis Costello at his best.
And sure, one might argue there's more raw talent to be found in an Iggy Pop or a Lou Reed, but Bowie has more poise and class and genius at self presentation than either of those two have in their little fingers, plus where would they be without the man? Certainly not on major record labels well into their fifties!
And if all of that fails to convince you, then just look at the man. He's fucking hot! Still! After all these years! Look at Rod Stewart and Mick Jagger, for example, and then look at Bowie. Clearly there's some sort of pact with Satan or Portrait of Dorian Gray in the closet or something because Bowie's enduring hotness truly defies the laws of physics. Then again, he's half Irish and you know about those Irish anti-aging genes. I for one have always been singularly partial to them ;)
Monday, February 02, 2004
A Reality Tour
Lizzie and I are going to see Bowie on Thursday! Here's a recent setlist...
I am such a geek, I admit it.
I am such a geek, I admit it.
Sunday, February 01, 2004
Wheel of the year
One turn of the wheel and you're right back where you started...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)