July 27, 2005

I broke your code

Though I hear you calling, I will not answer.

Why do you say that?

I broke your code.

Ah. But what makes you so sure?

Communing with the dead is a tiresome affair.

You're telling me. Say, you're in an awfully non sequitur state this evening.

Sole has no eyes.

Now you're mocking me. You know very well that sole does have eyes, they're just not in the normal places. Anyway, I was just checking in to see how...

I took a walk with my fame down memory lane, never to find my way back.

Ah. You're uncomfortable with how your perception has shifted since... you know.

Back in the old folkie days.

Yeah. Ah well. Bargains with fate are rather difficult to break.

I did it my way.

There are some who'd agree. Perhaps. Goodnight, love.

July 25, 2005

She lives in the TV sky

But when the music started she just slipped away
Just like a river rolling down

July 22, 2005

To sleep, perchancing to be dreaming?

Dreamlog 20050721:
Diane and I on foot safari in a park that looks to be a combination of Dibrova, Golden Gate Park, and my memories of Yellowstone. We hear on the course of our drive that there are leopards loose in the park. Somehow we magically lose the vehicle and find ourselves on foot, and just about the time I crack a mountain lion joke, I see a leopard in pounce position in the underbrush. It takes off running towards us, trying to skirt our boundaries of perception but not doing a very good job of it. It looks like a very, very large house cat in motion. I know leopards don't move like this. We keep walking, and I keep my eyes fixed on its face so it knows I see it. It keeps running circles around us, like Bandit chasing a toy. Finally we get to a populated area, plead our way into somebody's car, and wait it out.

Moral: Felines prey on your sleep. <- for Diane =)

Cut to a hotel or something. The feel is subaquatic and we are revealed to be in the Pacific northwest or San Francisco, I'm not sure which. There is discussion about the end of a vacation.

Cut to a kickass music store. I trade in some loathsome alternative album from the late 90s I have no idea how I came into possesion of and pick up the new Radiohead video collection (performances exclusive to an internet site) and single (which consists entirely of b-sides -- they've gotta do this someday). Also some kind of anime-related thing for Diane, I don't recall what. It was literally the used record store of my dreams.

Cut to a business meeting between me, my boss, and a consultant. It was a perfectly cordial meeting but the consultant seemed much younger than in real life. I remember next to nothing about this segment, other than a vague desire to dance1.

1. that's a pun, not to be taken literally.

July 18, 2005

Sister Rose

Who's that standing
Who's that standing in my cube-cube
Could it be the administration?
They come and take my PC for a format
But I haven't got the time-time
I'm busy working on my model
I'm busy working on my model
Just like Sister Rose said
I I I'm searching for my baseline
I said I couldn't hit it sideways
You know I couldn't hit it sideways
just like .... Sister Rose says

I'd apologize to Lou Reed and the Velvets, but why the fuck should I?

July 15, 2005

Vintage Violins

... or violas, actually. I've fallen hard for the work of John Cale on the strength of the studio masterwork Paris 1919 and the live overview Fragments of a Rainy Season. Imagine my chagrin, then, that many of his best albums (from Fear to Music for a New Society) are long out of print in the US.

Cale will never be one of my primary admired recording artists*, but he has the potential to be a strong second-string one.

Buy this for me, Diane? =)
The Island Years

* How do I know? If there's something I've come to understand about my own tastes, it's that my true favorite artists tend to be, uh, unique vocalists. Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Thom Yorke, Roger Waters, Nick Cave, Bob Geldof, etc. Cale is just a bit too normal, for the most part. Though he may prove me wrong.

July 13, 2005


Even those tears, I me mine I me mine I me mine.

We're on our way home.

Are you hoping for a miracle?

Yeah, I'm off to the civil war.

Dish me out another tailor-made compliment, tell me about some destiny I can't prevent.

He'll do his duty when he's grown.

Life is useless like Ecclesiastes say.

We're in a tight spot.

He was a good man they said.
He was a gentleman they said.
Even when life spat in his face
he put everything back
in its right place.