Saturday, November 30, 2002

I went album shopping with my brother and Bryan ( and came home with five CD's. I got three different Julian Cope CD's for about ten dollars. Music is so much easier when you read up on it. I suggest the compendium "The Book of Rock." Worth the money in terms of knowledge you will gain. Also looks really spiffy.

I's currently midnight, so happy not yesterday. Bryan's playing Grand Theft Auto 3 in the other room and I've been entertaining myself for the past half-hour with an internet device that comes up with a randomly-generated description of a "product" that you type into a text box. Here's a few samples, I have about fifty of these saved up for your enjoyment. Sorry about the spacing, the internet on my laptop isn't working so I have to use my mom's iMac with a wacky keyboard.


Mrs. Segade is a newly-discovered breed of fish that catches spiders!

DJ Ecto is a chainsaw that floats in water! It can be controlled by willpower alone and knows what you want before you do.

Wallpaper is a small plastic pyramid! It bounces up and down!

A prostitute is a housebrick that can be used in zero-gravity and recites haiku.

Oh, the fun we will have with this one. You would not believe the irony of some of these. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, November 27, 2002

My christmas list consisted mainly of musical requests but I'm afraid of what those gifts might bring. How do you communicate undefinable truths with a series of noises and words? You can hint at it and allude to it, but the real truth is that unless you are the one who wrote the song you can never fully understand what the author is trying to say (if anything), not to mention the necessary knowledge of the song's historical background or specific social subjects. If the song's a personal one (you can usually tell) I'd rather just admire the music than try to translate it into some half-assed botchery of the songwriter's original meaning.

A lot of the time I also feel like I should be teaching myself these things or absorbing them in an un-coded, direct way, like in the form of the Autobiographical Essay (which I love) so that totally skewed ideas don't wind up in my subconscious through my misinterpretation.

On the other hand, I do love music and on the occasion that I actually know enough about a musician and their background to try to garner some meaning out of their work it's a fulfilling event. Like Lennon. And sometimes Bowie (Oh! You Pretty Things, Life on Mars)

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

I'm making this post from inside my Physics class. I stole a few minutes to engage in personal signs of affection with you. The teacher's coming with an axe.

Matt Kelly and I spend entire physics periods using out stools in sexually provocative ways. The teacher, of course, doesn't notice.